We walked through the woods for what seemed miles… and hours. Mile after mile and hour after hour of relaxing nature.
We were still on time, however, to reach the level crossing at 07:25 to see the steam train, Sovereign Maiden, chug through pulling twenty (we counted them in turn) shiny wooden-topped carriages.
Steam clouds filled the air as she passed. The ground shook, and the driver added to the magic of the moment by sounding the train’s melodic whistle.
We listened as the train chugged away into the distance, echoing gently into the silence around us. We made sure the tracks were safe to cross and then continued on our walk.
It wasn’t long before we reached the Walker’s Rest, a small teashop just on the outskirts of the village, which opened every day at 6am, serving the most delicious and welcoming breakfasts.
Ready for our morning meal, we entered, chatting about how magical seeing the train was, and took our seats at a couple of the tables. The waitress approached our table with her pen poised over her small order book, with a beaming smile on her face.
I’ll never forget the expression on everyone’s face when, after we’d told the waitress about just seeing the locomotive, she told us the last train had ran through there back in the 1950s… the level crossing is now a mere footpath… and many other walkers had regularly seen the ghost of the train at 07:25.
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Posted for The Unicorn Challenge, a weekly challenge to write something up to 250 words inspired by a photo provided by Jenne Gray and C E Ayr.
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The Mansionic Perspective 
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