I have always lived within earshot of train tracks.
From the slice of suburban life that I called my childhood home, to the dilapidated balcony of my younger self’s great leap into independence; from the teeny tiny Californian apartment rubbing elbows with a new husband and a new name, to the solid brick ranch nestled in the vibrant green that is Tennessee’s cloak…
…the wail of a train’s whistle has penetrated the walls of every abode-and every stage-of my life.
“Come, see where I may lead you.” Continue reading “When Wanderlust Calls”