The snow arrived just in time to be late and just in time to catch most people out yesterday. Today the vista is white from horizon to horizon making my short train ride an illuminated one. It is not yet 6am and I am sat in the silent carriage on an empty train. I wonder if there would be objections to me talking. I will not in any case, there is nothing to say to myself and generally it is not appreciated making calls to folk at this time of day.
The train was late, again, getting to my station. When the weather is nice, the trains are on time. When the weather is bitter, the trains give us the opportunity to prolong the exposure. The thing about train stations that I have noticed is that they are almost always designed like massive wind tunnels. The ramjet effect of freezing air pummeling through the deserted station gives an eerie effect of openness whilst at the same time managing to slow down time. Seconds feel like minutes and minutes feel like hours and the track seems to elongate as the train approaches, approaches but does not ever quite make it until finally it is there. We have some very nice doors on our trains with very nice electric locking systems and a little step that comes out first and it is all so wonderfully slow that I find it hard to maintain my usual calm.
There should be a book written about commuting meditation, just as one can try walking meditation. The constant repetition of the same routines over the years must surely lead to some inner peace, but apparently I have not found the way yet!