I rode The Canadian from Toronto to Vancouver. Yes, I was a writer on the rails!
Did I get much writing done? Not really. At least, not on paper.
|Writer on the rails...|
Hour after hour of gazing out a window at a changing landscape of trees, rocks and water. That was Northern Ontario which goes on forever...until you hit Winnipeg. More hours of watching the rolling landscape gradually flatten into the prairies of Saskatchewan. Flat? Yes. Boring? Never! (I'm reminded of the story I heard from a friend: Family moves from Saskatchewan to BC, from the prairie to the mountains. Kids complain: "But we can't SEE anything! These mountains are in the way!")
|Wine country in BC|
So, did all those hours of watching and thinking clarify my writing life?
Not sure. But it didn't hurt. Riding the rails - taking time out to just sit. And think. And watch. And read. And luxuriate in it all.
It didn't hurt my writing life. Not a bit.
Okay, I did do a little writing. And I mean a little...
The Canadian: Day One
View from the window:
Trees, water, and low grey clouds.
Watching for wildlife.
Beaver? Moose? Bear? Eagle? Nope.
Train life: one long line,
See only the car in front -
'Til the curve. Then - all.