One of my fondest childhood memories (cliche!) is lying in bed at night and listening to not-so-distant freight and passenger trains clattering along, and especially to that whauugghh sound, that honky, drawn-out of the great all-time reminders that life pushes on and that endeavor and industry never sleep, which is generally comforting.

There's a train track a few hundred feet from the condo where I'm staying in Wilton, Connecticut, and every night I hear that sound.

In this fleet age of instant everything 24/7, of GPS and constant insulation from the raw cacophony of things...

HE: (plus)