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August 6, 2003 - Wednesday
We went to the beach today. And, we had a great time digging in the sand and running in the water; both Harry and Jeremy, although Harry a little more. But, today was more about trains.

Harry's been rather apprehensive about visiting the train tracks since we got here and it's fairly clear that he's anxious about the loudness of the whistle. I hadn't realized the depths of Harry's reaction this past spring, but the first time we went back there he was visibly taken aback by the wall of sound and thereafter was hesitant about going back. When he did, I'd cover his ears and that seemed OK then. But, it's easier to forget joys than fears and it's not all that surprising that Harry's been a little afraid this time. Of course, being cool and coy as Harry is, he's tended to mask his anxiety by reacting happily to hearing the train whistle, but then saying something like "but I think that it already passed." We have gone a couple of times, including once with Jeremy, but not as often as we have in the past. So, this morning it was Jeremy turn. This time, he and I went to the train tracks by ourselves and we saw both a passenger train and a freight train. He wanted "mo_e."

Still, however apprehensive Harry is about going to see the trains at the crossing, he does still love trains and the opportunity to ride on one was too exciting to be deterred by nervousness. This afternoon I took Harry to the station for a ride. Actually, grandpa drove us there and Harry and I waited for the train to come. We rode only to the next station, about a seven minute ride, but we passed the spot where we usually watch from and Harry saw mommy, Jeremy, grandma, grandpa, Aunt Jane, and Benjamin all waving as we sped by. We passed the train bridges that Harry has been counting, on previous occasions, from our car below. And, we passed a freight train waiting on the siding for us to pass.

Indeed, these are simple pleasures. But, Harry's excitement, before, during, and long after the ride, was as genuine as it seems in these humble photographs. His face was glued to the window the entire ride and his legs where kicking as we sat on a bench at the station after the ride waiting for our car to arrive. And, I'm betting that those pleasures, for him and me, are the ones that don't simply pass when they're over.

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