At the bottom of my street, there are tracks that run a freight line.
When we were little and heard the whistle, my sister and I would grab pennies, nickels and even quarters if we were desperate enough, and run down the street at top speed, hoping to place them on the tracks before the train came by. I loved the feeling of the smooth, warm, flattened metal on my fingers.
Today, I still have the urge to run down and check out the gigantic machines as the roll by. Only now, I bring my son instead of my sister.
The sound and size of these trains are truly unreal.
It's also nice to get a little graffiti fix. Of course, there are the usual throw ups, but occasionally, I'll see something that catches my eye -- a little something clever, creative, different or just really good. This time, we saw some sweet death skulls. Rawk.
When my family first moved here over 20 years ago, they ran SEPTA on these lines, too. Now the train station is a little restaurant called The Caboose Grille. At least weekly, I wish they'd bring the R5 back. What the world need now, is more public transportation, right? :)