Sunday morning, yard's quiet, and I keep thinking about the rails

Woke up early and stood on the porch with coffee before the sun bothered to show. The yard's been on my mind all week — not the work, just the way the rails look when nobody's running on them yet. Been having that dream again, cold engines and a missing stretch of track, and for once it didn't feel like a warning. Just felt like the yard telling me it can breathe without me for a while. Maybe I'm getting old. Maybe that's fine.