One of my fondest childhood memories (cliche!) is lying in bed at night and listening to not-so-distant freight and passenger trains clattering along, and especially to that whauuggghhhh sound…that honky, drawn-out groan…one of the great all-time reminders that life pushes on and that endeavor and industry never sleep, which is generally comforting.

In this age of instant everything, of GPS and constant insulation from the raw cacophony of things, of whirring, nearly-silent electric cars and digital this and that, four or five remotes in every living room, remotes everywhere, instant image and video available to any student or bedridden grandma or poor kid in Pakistan, OLED flat panels delivering instant Cary Grant in 1080p, 4K now and 8K before long…

In the midst of all this it’s really pretty wonderful to listen to or, better yet, board one of these huge, churning, rumbling remnants of 19th century technology, buckling and bellowing as they pull into a series of modest-sized stations (like the Metro North line between New Haven and Grand Central Station) an hour or so later…it makes you feel so completely on top of your life, so soothed and connected to the hum of things.