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On a train for 22 hours. I'll admit, that may not sound like a thrilling adventure, but I'm here to tell you why it was a ride of a lifetime... As the sun sunk down over the bouquet of palm trees I heard the horns. The train pulled into the San Juan Capistrano Depot announcing its arrival. You are able to enjoy the excitement of it coming for just a minute. Just as you take out your camera to get a picture, the conductors are yelling "all aboooooard!" There are no boarding groups, no long lines, but definitely, an urgency to jump on this paused transportation before it starts its engine again... and leaves you! Taking my steps up to my assigned seat, my heart is still beating. Only is it when I sit down in my window coach seat that I exhale and settle in. I was ready to start my 22 journey on the tracks. Some modes of transportation may feel restricting, but not the train. Once my heartbeat slowed down, I was off--- off to the "Observation/Lounge Car" area of the train, or as I like to call it "The Eyes of the Train." This area allows passengers to sit down and truly enjoy the views of the voyage- which iisn't hard when three-fourths of your surrounding is transparent with windows. I stay in this area, headphones in, pen and journal out, simply documenting what I was witnessing. From the landscape to those also enjoying the views I can't help but look at it all and feel free. There is something so liberating about being surrounded by strangers and sights that are fleeting. Through California, the headlights of the automobiles on the highway pierced through the darkness. As we passed through Flagstaff, Arizona, the track lights reflected brightly off of the glistening 13 inches of snow on the ground. All of the strangers, that I sat there watching and wondering what their story was, had either departed the train or gone back to their seats. We are allowed a "Fresh Air Stop" at certain parts of the ride. Passengers get five minutes to deboard the train, get fresh air, get their nicotine fix, or just stretch their legs. I opt to stroll up and down the walkway, nodding my head at fellow "fresh air stoppers" and taking in the differences of this new depot. until I hear a familiar charge, "all abooooard." Hours passed and state lines were crossed. The palm trees of California that turned into Arizona ponderosas, were now leafless aspens of New Mexico. The change of landscape reminded me of the ever-changing aspects of life that we may not be able to control or predict, yet can be so beautiful. I go back to my seat in solidarity with the other travel pillow-using riders who have turned in for the night. Strangers sleeping all around me, and yet I felt at home in my thoughts. There is peace. Streams of yellow and orange creeping over the mountains of Nuevo Mexico started to knock on the door of my eyelids, encouraging a lift. The calendar day had changed and three states later, it was a new day, but with the same solace. To welcome the morning, I ate a breakfast burrito (as any typical New Mexican would do) and hydrated with the reasonably-priced bottle of apple juice that they offered in their snack car. Through catching my sliding cards during my game of solitaire I would look up and appreciate the change of terrain. From green to white, to now yellow and brown the ground went on my trip. Before I knew it, the conductor comes to me and says "next stop is yours." I hurried off the train, with the same urgency I had when I got on it. As I stood at the Lamy, NM depot, with my luggage in my hands, I stared back at the train whose "freight" might as well be freedom. It yelled it's way out and headed into the mid-afternoon sun. I hope get to slow down and jump on a train, to get to have the liberation that can be felt from such sunset to sunrise.