Classic: Cog Railway
Today as we reach the bottom, despite the weather, another line of passengers waits patiently to ride. Cameras flash. Children point. The train halts and we set foot on steady ground. For minutes afterwards, I feel like I am still aboard the moving train. Late in the afternoon, after the last tourist has left, after the last train has descended, a silence hangs over Marshfield Base Station. Six little engines stand steaming, their primitive souls silent except for the hiss of escaping steam. A lone figure walks down the track toward the shop, pauses, as if listening, then disappears into the dusk.