Day 35: A train whistle

This morning at around 5:20 a.m., I was lying in bed, straddling that fence between dreams and reality when I heard it.  A passing train, on its way to who knows where, letting out its long, low, lonely cry.  And I felt the corners of my mouth turn up.

As a kid, I would always wake up before dawn, and one of the first sounds that I remember from those early hours in the "country"were the train whistles I could hear far off in the distance.  They became part of my circle of pre-dawn friends who would keep me happy until the sun came up and I was allowed to come out of my room.

Today, I'm thankful for those whistle-stop friends that haven't left me.  Without a doubt, when I'm feeling lonely or blue or just plain down in the dumps, their comforting voices will always let me know that everything will be ok.