Train Travel: Impossible to Capture

West is Carved in Me

There is no way in pictures to capture what my soul has breathed.”

I wrote that in my notebook as the train tracks led further and further west.

Even recalling that moment, my breath is easier, deeper, healing. I thought I lost that sensation coming home, getting back into the thick of things. But no, it’s there. It’s still there. But I have to stop and look for it now.

Can’t Capture It All in Pictures

 Out West c

Traveling by train is not something I can capture completely in pictures.

The train moves so fast, there is no way to take it all in with a camera.

Out West f

Can’t Capture It in Words

It’s not something I can capture in words – the brain moves so slowly, it can’t keep up with the vast emotions experienced and the thoughts flying wild.

Out West a

I did get these words on paper as the train sped across the Santa Fe Trail:

The dry freezing air crackles in my lungs,

burning the humid droplets


by breathing water for so

l  o  n  g.


The west is carved in me like an arroyo in buffalo bone.”

West is Carved in Me

Bumped Closer to the Tracks

One cannot grasp the depth of the experience through another’s photos or words, but maybe one can be bumped a little closer to taking the tracks themselves.

Out West e

Maybe I’ll meet you on the train one day, and we can talk. Or not. Maybe we will sit together silently and watch the scenery pass.

Out West b


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