I hear the train a comin'

I was laying in bed last night around midnight, trying to sort through a point of frustration for me right now, and I heard the blaring horn of a freight train about a mile away. This is a sweet and comforting sound for me, as it sounds like home. I've been able to hear the train every place I've ever lived. It used to echo off the trees on Calendar Lane and bounce through the hills of Long Hollow into my childhood bedroom at night. When I was in college, I could hear it whistle through the courtyard into my dorm room window. My first apartment post-college was located at one of the highest points in Cool Springs, and the I could look down and see it rolling along the Vanderbilt Legends Club in the valley. And now, the trains roam in Berry Hill, filling all of 12 South with their cacophony. It's a simple pleasure, really, but one that is uniquely mine.