Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows, the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.
Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away on the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone for ever!
From a Railway Carriage - R L Stephenson
The bike is being fixed. Most of that 60 BHP is unusable when only one of the two cylinders is firing. Darn. So I'm travelling by train.
I'm struck by the difference between the quiet town where I start my journey (well, quiet at 8 o'clock anyway) and the noise, dirt and bustle of The City. This makes the return journey all the more pleasant, watching the concrete disappear behind as I head through fields towards home. Ahhh. It's good to be in the middle of the lively atmosphere and amenities offered by The City - but it's great to go home again.
.. gotta be slightly worried about the sign on the station, though: "fast trains pass through the platform". Keep back behind the yellow line? Sounds like you're better off somewhere else entirely!
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