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The Tracks of Our Lives
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The Tracks of Our Lives  There are situations where an image can be a paradox, one where it can be symbolic of many things in our lives, and take on special meaning to us. Images of roads and paths are in that category, for they have a unique mystery to them : you don't know for sure if the viewer is looking forward to where they are going, or looking back on where they've just been. The image above is one of those unique paradoxes for me. This photo was taken on a trip I made a few years ago, when I went back to the town I grew up in. These tracks bring back so many happy memories for me. When I was 5 – 11 yrs old, I used to walk these very tracks almost each weekend with my grandfather. Winter or summer, spring or fall, it didn't matter, we walked those tracks! The railroad made a semi-circular pass around our town, and we lived pretty near the center at that time. On most occasions, we headed south til we hit the tracks, then followed them around town to the north, then home; but on other times, we started out to the north, then traveled along the tracks going southward around town. Gramps said it was important that we do this, so we could pass our usual sights, but see them ... from 'the other side'. As I got a little older, being an inquisitive sort, on these walks, I would sometimes start walking backwards past notable landmarks...just to see if they looked the same going away, as they did heading towards, from the same side! Most of my attitude,<b> philosophy </font></b>and outlook on Life, I got from my grandfather, from the talks we had on those walks. So, when I came back to this place a few years ago, and started walking these tracks one more time, I very much felt the presence of my grandfather there with me, once again. It gave me time to think over all the things he taught me, and assess how I've measured up to my goals. Time changes all things, that's for certain. Missing from the photo on the right is the coal yard for the locomotives, and the town lumber yard off to the side behind it. These were taken out by a huge fire that burned for 16 days, and had a jet-black smoke plume that could be seen 30 miles away. Also missing is an Ethan Allen furniture factory. Classic granite stone construction. Sold, torn down, and the lot left vacant. Behind me in this picture, but not seen, is the shell of the old Stevens Linen Factory...152 yrs of fine linens, now producing only calendar towels and tote bags. This building is near the old “Bates Shoe Factory”, est in 1866. It, too, is now but a small shell of its former self. Further back, down the track lines behind me, is what's left of Slater Village, and the Slater Textile Mill, … known today as the Cranston Print Works, making fine textiles since 1807. Samuel Slater, buried in a cemetery in this town, is accorded the title of the 'Founder of the American Industrial Revolution”. But he was also known as “Slater the Traitor” in England. (Interesting story there). It was at this very mill sight that he developed the first cotton spinning machinery in the US. I worked there, at CPW, when I was 15 through 17. (Yes, 15!) That was where I learned about Fuschia, Chartreuse, (crazy color...has 2 shades : yellow or green), Bisque, Bittersweet, Persimmon, Caput Mortuum, Cerise, Cerilium, Coquelicot, Magenta, Mauve, Lavender, Taupe.... Ages 13 through 17 were fun years for me. That's when “Space” was my big thing. I got interested in rockets. Building and launching them. My good friend and I, the two mad scientists of school, got quite proficient at building rockets and rocket engines. There was a field on the other side of town where we would ride our bikes to, rockets and paraphernalia precariously tucked into the carriers. Once there, after getting everything set-up, came the old 3-2-1 “BLAST OFF!” Whoosh, up and away! We were quite good at this, managing to get heights in thousand's of feet, and to re-use one rocket 37 times before losing it in a swamp. Can you say “heart broken”? (I wonder if it's still there, or if some fisherman has already reeled in something “strange”... proof that tiny aliens have already landed here?) Today, the mighty I-395 runs smack dab through the middle of our “rocket field”. A side note here : our rocketry 'experiments” all happened a scant 12 miles away from where Dr Robert H. Goddard launched the first flight of a liquid propelled rocket, March 16, 1926 in Auburn Mass. "It is difficult to say what is impossible, for the dream of yesterday is the hope of today and the reality of tomorrow." Dr R. H. Goddard. Moving on, and back to the photo. Missing from the left side of the photo is the old 'athletic field'. It was nothing more than a clear, large field with an old water bubbler, where we played baseball and football....pick up, just us , no organized sports activity, no uniforms, helmets, or full gear. Just a glove, a ball and a bat, (if you had the bat, you were a captain. If you didn't have your own glove, you'd use someone's from the team that was batting). Or, simply a football, to play tackle football! No wimpy flags for us! The (yes, we even had a tom-boy girl playing with us) would all hop on our bikes to get there after school, or in the mornings in summer. The town eventually developed that lot, and made a 'real' Little League field out of it. They put in a parking lot for the parents' cars, lights, and even a concession stand. Then it became a Pop Warner Football Field. Then a Soccer field. Now, it's been sold for house lots. The field was “too expensive” for the town to maintain. Yes, time changes all things. Nature was there first. Then came man, with his buildings and structures. Then “progress”. Now, finally, Nature is reclaiming most of that territory which was once hers. Just as surely as Nature will someday reclaim me. But, the tracks remain. This day, I walked those tracks, hand-in-hand with my grandfather once again. Perhaps, moving forward, while walking backwards, just one more time. Checking to see how things looked, coming and going, and to see them “from the other side”. |
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What a lovely post. I've been wondering when you would get back to this kind. Welcome Back. I've been missing this part of you.  Check out my profile or and become a "watcher" of my blog FMAOPLS,to learn more about me, and for intelligent, lively, smartassy and fun discussion, with a little irreverence thrown in. "Like" or comment on my photos, and I promise I'll add more. Thanks.
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A beautiful post. Grandparents were something that I missed out on...they were all gone before I was born. Maybe that's why I spend so much time with my grandkids. I know I missed something special.  6 years ago now I went home....to the place I was brought up, not born. There are no train tracks there for the island has no trains but I walked the paths I had walked in my younger days and saw the changes....and in a way I said goodbye to a part of me. ~~Anais Nin~~
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Beautiful post ty for sharing with us Hugs V PS Be proud to be a grandparent! Become a blog watcher sweet_vm
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And when you think about it - so very much has changed. Right now we're using tech to communicate - something that may have been thought not possible all those years ago? Going down memory lane or "track"! The bitter sweet mems of growing up ...... ..... And always 'hold onto all those sexy thoughts'! (Remember if you feel like taking part in some sexy fun then click here!) Come on Some Sketch Fun And Now How About 39Me39 Watching 39You39 If you39d like that Please Comment - So if you would like - click here as well!
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Beautiful post! Thank you for sharing  "To Be Consumed" Blog : I want to be your drug of painful withdrawals.
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This photo could have been taken behind my grandparents' house. You have special gifts one of which is your expressive nature. Never ignore those who care for you you will have lost diamonds while you were collecting stones
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This is such a BEAUTIFUL Story! You must've felt your grandfather's presence very strongly, because the connection between the two of you through your words! So glad the tracks are still there, so you could 'walk with him' again! and everything else has changed so much... --Author Unknown
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I agree with FM...I've been waiting for you to post one of these again. Your writing has become so engaging. I think I know why you like trains so much now...they make you feel a little piece of home and that's always comforting.
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