February 11, 2009
It’s peaceful and quiet on the train. I fold down the little tray table in front of me and catch up on my emails, which I’ll send when I arrive at the hotel. When I’m finished with that and have finished reading all the wonderful John Updike excerpts in the latest “New Yorker”, I give my attention to the passing scenery. The train follows the path of the deltas, dotted with seabirds, egrets, ducks, even a lone majestic swan. Near Martinez, the water hides behind a field, and the huge container ships seem to float on the dry winter grass.