Autumn through a train window
- 2 minsHurtling across Cornwall by train is a common occurrence in my life. Something that’s been true ever since a young age when my family moved to the end of the UK.
Back then, journeys might have been to see a football game with my dad and uncle. Perhaps a roast with aunt Non (French family joke. . . Evon was famous for always saying no). Sometimes, both these would be bookended by a a morning and evening on the sofa with gramps to watch wrestling. In all cases, it was something I was looking forward to.
Today it’s often to do a job I enjoy doing. Or to attend a social function, many of which are tied to work in someway. . . but filled with friends.
The train has become a pseudonym for my office. I’m often head down in a laptop working on something or other from the moment I get on the train. I find it a good environment to work in, although that’s potentially through necessity and conditioning rather than by desire.
Today I’ve taken a different tact. Rather than being ‘work’ productive, I’m being ‘Tony’ productive. Instead of hunching over a laptop to relentlessly work with headphones on, I’ve grabbed this pad and pen and set about daydreaming out of the window sans headphones. Watching the countryside relentlessly go past is both boring and restful.
The thing I’m most struck by is the famous Autumn colors. They’re often touted as a suitable replacement for long sunny days, and cooling summer breezes along the coast. Sure, if you’re a fan of orangey brown then this is certainly the season for you. It does look spectacular, especially when the fields are dotted with animals of all kinds. Sheep, Cows, Llamas, pheasants and a variety of other birds are all a part of today’s journey. As have a handful of rainbows.
This year’s Autumn may have started late and happened suddenly, but starring out of this window it’s clear that it’s nearly over and winter is coming. It’s going to be long, hard and cold.
Much like the war we’re about to live through. We’re living through history.