Up the valley from where we live, is a place where the bend in the river is followed by the railroad tracks. Pine trees and orchards share the hillsides, and a vineyard or two can be seen flanking the roadside.

Here, perched on an overlook above the river, is a little weathered bench just perfect for sitting and watching the sun set over the Cascade mountains... as well as waiting for the trains to go rumbling by.

Tonight we arrived just a few minutes too late for sundown, but the horsetail clouds were still lit with the glow. There was even a sundog blazing up above one of the peaks. Had we not seen the sun dip down behind the mountains on the drive up, we would have been fooled by this trick of nature.

I mused outloud that it would be fun if a train were to come by while we were there as it had in times past. As chance would have it, I heard the approach of one within a couple of minutes of giving voice to my wish.

I walked down the slope a bit while my husband positioned himself to take a few pictures. When I saw the train glide into view, I grinned as I realized it was a passenger train with about ten cars including the engine. The sound it made while rounding the bend was a metallic hiss compared to the clank and whine of the cargo trains that normally rumbled along the tracks.

I started waving as the engine went by. In a flash, I could see people in the dining cars. Someone reading a newspaper. A man peering out the window, waving back at me. The last few cars had darkened windows, but there too I saw a few faces hovering in the windows. And then it was gone.

I walked back to the bench and sat for awhile as my husband turned his attention to taking a few pictures of the river. Tilting my head back, I watched a flock of swallows performing their evening acrobats against the fading blue sky. I thought about the stranger in the train as well. Who was he? Where was he heading? Did he have a travelling companion or was he going somewhere alone? Such a mystery, these times when two lives cross for a split second, then veer off into the unknown. I wondered if he will think of the smiling soul he saw standing on the green hill of the Cashmere valley.

We stayed awhile longer, and then headed for home. Hubby smiled at me, knowing how my mind loves to ponder over moments like this. I smiled back, then looked east toward the pink hues reflecting on the mountains. The train was heading in that direction, carrying one small moment in time with it down the whispering silver tracks.