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June 1, 2003 - Sunday
Just like last summer, it took Harry and me a few tries going down to the nearby train tracks after hearing a whistle before we saw our first train. Actually, after a third miss last evening I drove Harry to the station ten minutes away (I'd already been to the one five minutes away in the other direction) to check the schedule. That station had one posted and this morning we didn't miss. In fact, Harry and I rushed down twice and saw two trains today.

"It was a silver diesel passanger train. And, the engineer waved," Harry told his mother.
"I bet he was happy to see a little boy watching," said Harry's mother after we got back the second time.
"Yeah, I bet he was happy to see a little boy watching," Harry agreed.

And, as silly as the whole thing was, it was probably the highlight of the trip, for both of us. The second time I asked Harry if he was going to wave, he did, and then an arm extended from the engine window in an updated scene from Rockwell. But more than that it was Harry and me running off together, sitting together down at the track waiting and wondering, then not seeing a train - Harry never let on great disappointment - then finally seeing a train. I know, it all sounds like sentimental parent stuff that the child is oblivious to. But, when I said goodnight to Harry this evening and told him that I had fun watching the trains, he said that he did too and his wide smile seemed to confirm that it wasn't a "me too" reaction.

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