Memories of trains - there are two for me.
The first is of a sweltering, humid night in Detroit. I was a little girl lying in bed with the windows open. It was so hot I didn't want to move.
What made the evening bearable was the eerie whistle of a distant train. It took me to another world.
The next memory of a train was a happy one. I was about 13 years old, and was one of the few girls on a train bound for Montreal, Quebec with my older brother's hockey team. Unfortunately, my dad was also there.
But what I remember most about the journey on that snowy night was the noise of the train, the laughter of my brother and his friends, and a nearby radio playing Simon and Garfunkel's song, "I Am a Rock. I Am an Island."
Whether I hear a lonely train whistle or that old song, I'm back in the past romancing the 60's.