Pumpkin Soup

a weblog with an allotment attached

8 March 2006

From a railway carriage

Faster than fairies, faster than witches,
Bridges and houses, hedges and ditches;
And charging along like troops in a battle,
All through the meadows the horses and cattle:
All of the sights of the hill and the plain
Fly as thick as driving rain;
And ever again, in the wink of an eye,
Painted stations whistle by.

Here is a child who clambers and scrambles,
All by himself and gathering brambles;
Here is a tramp who stands and gazes;
And there is the green for stringing the daisies!
Here is a cart run away in the road
Lumping along with man and load;
And here is a mill and there is a river:
Each a glimpse and gone for ever!

Robert Louis Stevenson

This poem evokes the romance of train travel in a bygone age. Steam trains, plummy voices and unconsummated romances with dishy doctors. The trudge of twenty-first century commuter train travel seems far removed from what is conjured up here. And yet I often find on my train journeys between Birmingham and Leicester that I am taken aback by the amazing glimpses of mother nature doing beautiful things even in places like industrial estates or scrap metal yards. The route is not a pretty one one the whole, but here are a few of the things I saw through the window today on my journeys that made me smile:

On leaving New Street station, two mallard ducks enjoying the rain and paddling about in a puddle in a car park.

Four magpies perched on the posts of stainless steel railings looking for all the world like sentries.

A solitary pheasant pecking the ground in a ploughed field, its colourful feathers vibrant against the wet earth - and in the same spot on the return journey.

A hare! This absolutely amazed me as I have never seen a hare before and it was huge, sprinting across a field, showing its inordinately long limbs to good effect.

Several rabbits lolloping around flashing their white tails or nibbling grass unconcernedly as the train rushed past only inches from their whiskers.

Little things like this get me through the day.

Filed under: Enthusings — Clare @ 6:27 pm


9 responses

  1. amanda

    My heart goes out to the dead pheasant

    (08.03.06 @ 10:13 pm)

  2. WiZeR

    You been drinking Clare? :P

    (08.03.06 @ 10:13 pm)

  3. HB the First

    Sounds like a fantastic journey, mate. Trains are great for magic moments like that :)

    (08.03.06 @ 10:21 pm)

  4. Clare

    Amanda - I’m touched that you have visited and left comments - yay!

    WiZer - A bit of gin is another one of those ‘little things’ ;)

    HB # 12 & 35 - They were great journeys today. Somtimes though I end up with some great hulking git snoring and drooling next to me and that’s really not so nice!

    (08.03.06 @ 11:45 pm)

  5. WiZeR

    Sadly in my part of the world, all trains are total hell and if I could only have one wish, it would be to never board another train ever again. The view through the window on my way to work is that of scrap yards, motorways, incinerators, football grounds (millwall), council estates and high rise buildings. On the bright side…. no sorry, there just isn’t one.

    Pass the Gin Clare

    (09.03.06 @ 8:25 am)

  6. Jooles

    You can almost hear the stoccato of the wheels hitting the tracks….. sorry remember it from o’level! ….and tiger tiger burning bright…. and dirty british coaster with a salt caked smoke stack…. must remember to buy more sherry!!

    (13.03.06 @ 9:47 pm)

  7. Glen Brown

    The U.Ks. General Post Office (GPO) made a series of B & W Promotional films in c1940s-50s (GPO Royal Mail Films). One of these was called “Night Mail”, off a Travelling Post Office night train journey from London England to Edinburgh Scotland. (a several hour journey with camera speed reducing it to several minutes, and to which especially commissioned music and poetry was added. Titled ‘Night Mail’ and is a Classic similar to ‘From a Railway Carriage’. Both being a brief descriptive poem of factual historical moments of time experienced by their respective authors during that nostalgic era of steam .

    (21.11.06 @ 5:31 pm)

  8. David

    I know just what those glimses mean to you, Clare — I fed on them until I needed a more varied diet. I now work in a country where alcohol is forbidden (and no longer missed!). My journey to tax-free work now embraces palm-fringed shores of a blue lagoon, splashes of green sea, towering white minarets against the bluest of skies, exotic scents of flowers and spice, and feathered friends of exotic plumage –all bathed in deep sunshine. Life’s what you make it. Yay indeed.

    (24.01.07 @ 11:41 am)

  9. Noor

    although i am a yr 6 gul
    i love the discripton of the poem
    and hope in the future
    that there will be more and more talented
    ppl lik u
    p.s
    i love riting poems alot

    (05.05.08 @ 6:10 am)


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