Trains

I admit it. I have a fascination with trains. For as long as I can remember, I have lived around trains. There is an east /west track that is maybe half a mile to the south of my house and another east/west track just a quarter of a mile to the north. I would fall asleep to the sound of trains chugging and clanking past nearly every night. Most mornings began with a train whistle echoing through the house.
Growing up, my mom always talked about taking us on a train ride. She thought it would be good for us. Being the shy child that I was, I wasn't too sure about the whole thing. It wasn't until just a couple of years ago that I fianlly took my first train ride.
I was nervous at first. It was a new experience and I was going by myslef. So I decided a short ride would be best. The morning dawned bright and sunny. I was up early and headed to station in plenty of time to meet the train heading south to Winter Park.
I thoroughly enjoyed the whole experience. The ride itself was fun. I got to sit by a window and I think I smiled for the whole two hour ride. Winter Park was amazing and I loved everything I got to do and experience. So much so that I am looking forward to going back! I will save those adventures and experiences for another article, though.
One of my favorite parts of the trip was sitting in the station, watching the people. You see all kinds of people in a train station! One of my least favorite parts was finding out that my train home was running several hours late. I had been looking forward to seeing the sights on the way back. By the time the train arrived, it was too dark to see much. Even though my first train adventure did not go exactly as planned, it is definitely something I want to do again. There is just something special about riding the rails.
Photography is such a vital part of my life and that passion has recently begun to merge with my newfound interest in trains, resulting in some of my favorite pictures. Trains and the rails they run on make fascinating subjects. They also make great background material. I love trains!
But, wait! There's more! My grandparent's farm was located just outside of the small town of Diagonal. As far as I know, it is the only town with that name in the whole United States. It got it's name ( I am told), because it was on a diagonal rail line running between two nearby, slightly larger towns. Yes, you heard right. A rail line. I won't go into the history on why trains were so important to Iowa farmers (and all mid-west farmers). Just know they were very important. It has been a long time since trains have run through Diagonal. The rails have been pulled up and the grade has become an historical walking trail. That is where I come in!
On one visit to my grandparents, my grandmother decided we should go for a walk along this trail. We didn't go far, as we didn't have a lot of time. But we enjoyed the length we got to walk. And on that walk, I found some treasures! Old rusty rail spikes may not seem like much of a treasure to you, but they are to me! I found two or three of them and grandma said I could keep them. So, I wrapped them in newspaper and brought them home, packed carefully away for safe keeping.
From one travellor to another, if you ever get a chance to take a train ride, go for it! It is sure to be an adventure. Enjoy the memories!

Wild Roses

I have many wonderful memories from my childhood. Some of the fondest ones are times spent on my grandparent's farm in Iowa. The wide open spaces, the brilliant green fields of corn and beans, the musty barn and the oily smelling tractor shed, all were part of the grand adventure.
First, though, was the three day drive in a van with seven other people. Those trips were adventures in themselves! Maybe I will write about them one day. We always looked forward to seeing the next state sign. Once we crossed the Iowa line, we knew it wouldn't be long before we would arrive. But perhaps the most anticipated part of the journey (next to grandma's cinnamon rolls!) was the sound of gravel hitting the back of the van. My grandparent's farm was on a gravel road, and once we hit gravel, we knew we were just minutes away from the farm.
Iowa is a special place and not just because I have family there. Okay, at least partially because I have family there. But it is special for other reasons as well. Like the softly rolling hills, the variegated green fields, getting to be up close to the animals and the sense of community. There is just something special about sitting on the front porch, waving at tractors as they go by. Or having other drivers wave at you as you are driving down the road. Or just being able to ask, "Grandma, who is that?" and hearing a story about how she knows them. All of these things and more, make Iowa special.
One of the most special things about Iowa is it's state flower, the wild rose. I love roses, as a general rule. But, I have always thought of roses as being the cultured variety that you see in bouquets and in stores. Though they may not look like their more cultured cousins, wild roses have a beauty all their own.  
One summer, while visiting my grandparent's farm, I was walking around in the yard when I saw these beautiful pink flowers growing beside the front porch. Curious, I asked my grandmother about them. She explained that my grandfather saw them growing by the side of the road and liked them. So he stopped, dug up a couple of the plants and brought them home. He then planted them by the front porch. The grew and multiplied and filled in their little corner, making a beautiful display when in bloom.
I didn't know right away that the beautiful flowers I admired were wild roses. It wasn't until much later, when researching the state symbols for all fifty states that I learned the significance of the little roadside flower that my grandfather liked enough to bring home and plant in his yard. Now, it has become one of my favorite flowers. Every time I see one, I think of my grandpa (now in Heaven), my grandparent's farm, and the wonderful state of Iowa.

A Little About Me

Hi! My name is Crystal. I was born and raised in the city, but I have always been a country girl at heart. Not the honky tonk, mudding, flannel wearing country that a lot of people think of when they hear "country". I am more the working in the field, sitting on the front porch waving to everyone who goes by, close knit, hardworking family type of country. You will be hearing more about that in future posts.
I am a writer, a photographer, and an explorer. My goal is to share some of my favorite (and hopefully best!) photos in the future. There are many stories I have to tell and I can't wait to share them with you!! Come back and see what's new!!!