It was chilly standing on the Amtrak boarding platform at the Osceola station, but the shiver I felt had less to do with the temperature than with the sight of the train pull in. Having started its run near San Francisco a couple of days ago, the California Zephyr arrived at Osceola a half-hour late, but still expects to arrive in Chicago a few minutes early. Stowing our bags on the rack, we made our way up to the passenger level and found seats on the last row of this last car. Before I was seated, the countryside began to move past the window, across fields and thinly wooded meadows, picking up speed. Nestling in, reclining, I thought again how comfortable is this mode of transportation compared to the "consolidating" experience of being wedged into the Lilliputian seats of most airlines. We rock gently and smoothly eastward, and I couldn't feel more content -- iPod singing in my ears, my beloved beside me, and even the simplest, most ordinary view out the window a kind of candy to savor more than chew.
It's only for a few hours, course -- just as far as Chicago, and we have delights in store there, as well. But right now, rocking along through these soggy fields, I could dream about staying aboard this train for months.
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