Railway Tracks

Standing at the door of a train, I can never resist looking down at the tracks running parallel. I can never resist that fluid trance. As the train passes by, the tracks pick up pace. They begin to glide alongside, causing the ground around it to turn to a smooth blur. They seem like they're racing with the train, or trying to talk to it. Are they chasing after the train? As they sit there on their rusted iron clamps, they wait. Wait to be run over. Wait to be polished by the grooves of a train's wheels.

Isn't it a wonder how something so static, so motionless, transports us and makes us move? It's the monotonous continuity of the tracks that pushes us toward change and excitement. It makes me realize that there can't be change without a firm foundation- without some amount of routine or repetition. Not everything in life can be indefinite. We all need a constant, a fixed point to grow from. But grow from there we must.