POTD - Electric Wig Wag Lights A Lonely Crossing Under A Distant Moon

Lonely Vigil

You've driven hours on miles and miles of lonely two-lane highway to reach a lonely, seemingly forgotten county road crossing on the open plain of eastern Colorado. The wind stirs and a bite in the air tells you that you are not so far from another winter's chill. You smell the hint of agriculture, and it seems a feed lot must not be too far away. But the air also carries a bit of juniper from Devil's Canyon from the north and west.

You feel it before you see it. A slight hum in the rails and then a flash of a beam cuts through the night. Within moments, the bell and the light activate at the crossing, though it's just you it warns as it wags almost lazily back and forth in time with the bell. A second or two later, the Southwest Chief is upon the crossing. A blast of wind and a whiff of diesel, a blur of streaking lights, chrome and steel wheels, it flies over the rails!

Photo of the Day: Jadon H.

All too quickly, the end of the train flashes past and the marker lights recede around the corner, taking one of the slight bends in this straight line part of the state. The signal stops, its job accomplished for the night. It will not see the next train, the westbound Chief for hours. The moon passes behind the crossbucks and you see again the myriad of stars and galaxies wheeling slowly onward above. A meteor, like the Chief, flashes for a brief second and is gone, swallowed up in the night. You turn for your vehicle. Suddenly, a warm mug and a soft bed don't sound so bad right now. ⚒