I like to go out on the deck towards the end of the short journey. There’s just something so empowering about watching the sea pass under the ferry and being mobile while the buildings and lighthouse stand stationary – stuck – on the land.
As I watch the last few minutes of the leftover pink sunset sky, I dream. Of where in the world I want to go; of how I hope to get to see other oceans, other sunsets, and be just as moved by their beauty as I am by the scene before me.
Snapping back to reality: a train whistle.
I look and see it snaking among the buildings; its square, lit up windows give it away – an empty passenger train. I long to catch that train; since this ferry travels such a short distance to known places, an unknown train ride would bring peace, adventure, and hope for the future – at least more so than the trip back and forth across the sound.
That train would whisk me away to a place I don’t know, among people I don’t know; which often sounds more comforting than being around the familiar. This ferry gives me inspiration and wondrous thoughts, but that train would carry that inspiration and those thoughts perhaps to a place where they are more accepted, tolerated, and supported. And maybe that train would pump the motivation in and the nervousness out so that inspiration and those thoughts can flow freely throughout my mind without fear blocking their paths. Maybe, I can make it to the train stop in time; maybe, if I have the tenacity to board that train, I will feel as though I have gained a strength that will never leave me; maybe, just maybe. . .
PASSENGERS WITH VEHICLES MAY NOW ENTER THE LOWER DECK
Maybe another time.