Sounds of Change

It was early morning before sunrise when I heard the first fall train roll through town and it shook my memory of past season changes. When the seasons begin to change from summer to fall the air carries the sounds with more intensity. The steel wheels against the rails and the warning blasts of the horns and the roar of the diesel engines make it sound as if it the tracks are running right through the house with you. All at the same time it's furious frightening and funny. It makes me remember the times all us boys would sleep at Charlie and Wanell's when their house was on McClelland street. The room they put us in was no more than 50 yards from the old railroad switching tracks and we might as well have been riding the rails we were so close to moving switch engines and cars as they moved through the night.
It was the difference in sound that aroused a sense of anticipation and after drifting in and out of sleep and thought for a while longer I couldn't resist getting up and sitting outside under the oak for my morning coffee. And just as I anticipated, the air was still warm with summer, but different in its finish. The air moved across my face and when it passed it left an unmistakably cool edge that served notice that not many days or weeks ahead the northern storehouse would overflow with cooler and cooler and finally cold air. As I recalled this local signal of seasons changing, I thought of what was passing and what may come and how little control I have over the events that require us to live on their terms.