I'm heading back up to Trenton again and the Northeast Regional accelerates from the fairly unremarkable station, passing through Charlottesville's Tenth and Page neighborhood. You can't really get this perspective unless you're on board a train. I am seated on the western side, watching familiar landmarks go past, including that spot from May 6, 2015.
That was ten years ago now, and I'd never seen this view. Now I seem to see it fairly often as Charlottesville disappears and blends into Albemarle. There's the radio station I go to on Mondays. There's the school for autistic children. But once we get to the bypass bridge, the train accelerates faster we speed past McIntire Park, we zoom past Charlottesville High School, and a man is snoring despite it being the quiet car.
I am hopeful I can get a newsletter out today. I'm concerned that my typing will be too loud and I'll be thrown out, but then the man's snoring goes up a few bits. The train speeds past "gasoline alley" though I don't think anyone calls it that. We're up in Albemarle now and I'm struck by how few people I know here, and how I've never been inside any of these houses.
In a moment we'll speed past Forest Lakes, and the man's snoring makes me think of pickles for some reason, though I'm not sure at all where that connotation comes from. As we pass through Carrsbrook, the lots get larger as do the houses. The ground is still covered in snow as we've had a real winter this time.
We're close now to a place where I house sat twice, and then we cross the South Fork of the Rivanna an I think about how much I've written about this place, and how I love my life when I can imagine what I've been able to achieve. There is a lot more to do, and I'm trying to prepare myself for that.
I realize my geography is all wrong and we've not crossed into Forest Lakes yet, and I'm not close to the place where that dog bit me. The man is still snoring, but it's more subdued The houses of Forest Lakes all look the same, no variation between any of them, and I've only been in one of these houses and that was over 15 years ago.
We go beneath the Proffit Road bridge and now we're up into northern Albemarle. To my west in a few minutes will be the National Ground Intelligence Center. I won't be able to see anything, but it's over there with the county dreaming of a lucrative military base. I'm just hoping to keep writing during the turbulence we're already in now.
At least today's ride is smooth because a lot of people worked hard to ensure that this mode of travel exists. We're moving faster now and as soon as we cross the North Fork of the Rivanna River I know I've met my quota and can get back to work.
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