Anachreon rules or Bacchus, can you here me?

4
It is about 0730 local time, and I actually slept pretty well last night. A college boy across from me was sleeping very well. He just woke up and tossed his trash. There were two empty cans labeled Budweiser. I might have to remember the effect wine has on me if I have trouble sleeping. They do sell it on the train.

We are rolling gently on the siding so a freight train can go by. One of the flat states, and the town of Edgarton, the water tower, like the homes, is clean and neat, looking like the paint is kept up. Neatly trimmed lawns surround the home like a smooth green ocean, dotted with island of white, and beige wooden volcanoes. The orange painted head of a bulldog stands sentinel on that tower, facing out ovrt the town, a wary eye tyrne
towards the tracks that pass near, bringing and taking all manner of things.
The freight passed by heading the way we have just come from, and we pick up speed.
All along the tracks are these towns, their animal guardian sometimes visible. Their home standing firm, almost challenge the great noisy behemoth to try and make them into cities and metropolitan centers. Resistance abounds. Smooth asphalt lined with a webbing of black meanders give tell to cracks in this defense. One town holds a stately two story bick home, it's columns of wood, and gingerbread trim, no longer clean and white. Not all is well in the small towns of America. There are strips between where one tamed right of ways have grown back along the railway giving a sense of wildness, a tangle of wills and purpose. Yes, just through the tangle you see fields freshly plowed or tall with corn and crops. If you look closely though you see standing water from summer rains, and patched of barren soil among the bright green fields.
We, as a whole, are in too much of a hurry. In everything we do. We miss the magic in the world we are part of, and we miss the signposts that try to tell us thzt if we fail to see, acknowledge, and take right actions, it will be irretrievably lost to us.

From this vantage point, I can glimpse both sides of the track. The perseverence astounds, and yet, as we near larger towns and cities my concerns grow. I already wrote about the empty buildings that once held manufacturing and jobs. The visual clues to the level of concern are painted on every surface and littering the ground. Take heed. Rember the universal laws: everything is going somewhere ; everything is connected to everything else ; there's no such thing as a free lunch!

Perhaps breakfast will provide less somber insights, though there is nothing wrong with revealing my ability to be serious and thoughtful from time to time.
So remember todays train tip...they DO sell alcohol on board.