There’s something about trains that I love. I never grew out of the joy that comes from hearing the whistle of a train as it approaches a station. I am nostalgic about a time when people depended on trains to travel the country and  talked to strangers in the dining car or became a 4th in a bridge game. I get that silly grin on my face when someone suggests taking the train somewhere. Why don’t we do this more often?

Today I headed up to Highland Park, which is a suburb north of Chicago, to work on a homework assignment with a classmate. Our task was to administer a standardized vocabulary test. No big deal. The big deal is that instead of hopping in my car and sitting still on the tollway, I took the train! My classmate suggested it and I leapt at the opportunity.

The ride from Rogers Park to Highland Park was only about 30 minutes, but it was still divine. I was reminded of the trips with my sister up to LA to visit our grandparents — once we were chugging down the tracks, I couldn’t wait to get up and walk to the snack car for some M&Ms. Today there was no snack car, but I found a vending machine at the station and enjoyed my M&Ms all the same. Good times.