I took this photo about a year ago while racing across the countryside at 6 in the morning, en-route to a far flung client. Those early hours on trains always remind me of “Night Mail”, by W H Auden…
This is the Night Mail crossing the border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.
Thro’ sparse counties she rampages,
Her driver’s eye upon the gauges.
Panting up past lonely farms
Fed by the fireman’s restless arms.
Striding forward along the rails
Thro’ southern uplands with northern mails.
The full poem can be found here.
Beautiful photo. Amazing poem. Auden is one of my all-time favorites. Maybe because he often writes (very well) about wandering through the world…
I took this photo about a year ago while racing across the countryside at 6 in the morning, en-route to a far flung client. Those early hours on trains always remind me of “Night Mail”, by W H Auden…
This is the Night Mail crossing the border,
Bringing the cheque and the postal order,
Letters for the rich, letters for the poor,
The shop at the corner and the girl next door.
Pulling up Beattock, a steady climb:
The gradient’s against her, but she’s on time.
Thro’ sparse counties she rampages,
Her driver’s eye upon the gauges.
Panting up past lonely farms
Fed by the fireman’s restless arms.
Striding forward along the rails
Thro’ southern uplands with northern mails.The full poem can be found here.
Beautiful photo. Amazing poem. Auden is one of my all-time favorites. Maybe because he often writes (very well) about wandering through the world…
