Fargo at 6 a.m.

The train got into the cities one hour late and we were tired by the 11 p.m. boarding time. The kids were subdued when we got to our sleeper car. Quietly we chose our spots to slumber. chatted a bit, and played with all the switches. How can such a small space have so many lights and switches?! One light was chosen to serve as our night-light as the train smoothly and silently pulled away from the depot, we closed our eyes.
Sleep didn't come easily. the sway of the train was comforting but the  noises of the wheels on the track and the force of going round a curve didn't let me settle down. Ear plugs in and the volume turned down to 'barely audible' on my  MP3 player relaxed me and soon I was drifting off. That is, until a really kick-ass song, "Midnight Black" by The Temperance Movement came up in the shuffle mix and woke me up.When that song was finished, I decided to stop the music for the night and laid there waiting for sleep to overpower me. I waited. And waited.
It finally happened and then I awoke to the sensation of the train stopping. Moments later we were on our way when we slowed to a stop for a few minutes and then started moving again -- but it felt like the opposite direction. When it happened again, I sat up and peeked out the curtained window. Where were we? Darkness was starting to lift. I looked at my phone to find that it was barely 6 a.m. In Fargo. The sun had not yet crested the horizon but there was that cool, barely discernible light that turns the world a multitude of shades of grey. Everything that is, except Sterneson Lumber. The red and green neon letters atop the building screamed for attention in the grey cityscape. Soon we started to move again. Then we stopped. Then we started moving again. Then we got closer to a red and green neon sign for Sterneson Lumber. And, we stopped. Were we going backwards? We started going in the opposite direction again, past Sterneson Lumber. Again we stopped. Then we started going in the opposite direction again past, you got it, Sterneson Lumber. I was afraid that this train trip had taken on a "Groundhog Day" element to it -- Fargo, Moorhead, Fargo, Moorhead, Fargo, Moorhead. We kept moving and never saw the red and green neon sign again. Turns out we had been inching our way over to another track so a freight train could pass. By the time we left Fargo without back-tracking to Moorhead, the world was turning a golden hue of morning. Buildings had become warm shades of brown, beige, brick and rough-sawn wood. Beautiful baskets of pink petunias hung from light posts for several blocks.A few cars appeared on the streets and as the town awoke, we rode the rails out of town.