What’s the railroad to me?

Henry David Thoreau, 1817 – 1862

What’s the railroad to me?

I never go to see

Where it ends.

It fills a few hollows,

And makes banks for the swallows,

It sets the sand a-blowing,

And the blackberries a-growing.

This image, from shorpy, shows the Penmar train station at the start of the 20th century. The Appalachian trail runs through there now, and it’s well-covered in forest. Somehow I think Thoreau would approve of the change.