The Sun Shines Brightly Over the Golden Wheat Fields

I deeply sigh as I watch the trees zoom by. Tall, dark green pine trees are dotted in the distance as the train shuffles on. Somewhat grey clouds roll over the horizon. I stretch my legs, accidentally kicking my bag over. I quickly sit it back upright, keeping my sketchbook inside.

The train comes to a stop. I stop myself from falling out of my seat, leaning back into it. I take a quick glance outside. The line of trees are off in the distance. Not a city or town in sight. We were in the middle of nowhere. Was something wrong? Did something break?

I look around the rustic train car. An older woman sits diagonally away from me. She simply pushes her glasses back up and flips a page in her book. A man in a suit sits a few seats ahead of mine. He fixes his tie before he takes another loud slurp of his coffee. I try to relax back in my own cushioned seat. Perhaps it was all in my head.

The train jerks me forward. Before I know it, the trees zoom by again. We were moving. No one questions the stop. No one says anything over the intercom. I shrug it off and lean against the window again.

The lush green pine trees continue to sweep on by. The sky is still filled with grey clouds. I hear the business man slurp his coffee again. I take another peek at my bag.

My sketchbook was still inside. It seems to look back up to me, taunting me. It’s like I’m staring at the Ring of Power. I shake my head and rest my bag next to my seat. I turn back out the window to the dreary weather. I let out a sigh, lightly fogging up my window.

“Excuse me.”

My head swiftly turns to the sound of the voice.

An older man stands next to my seat. He looks to be almost elderly. His skin sags a little. He doesn’t look mean or upset. He greets my sudden turn with a bright smile and gentle blue eyes.

“Is anyone sitting there?” He asks, pointing to the seat across from me.

I look over to the empty cushion seat.

I shake my head. “N-No, sir.”

He gives me another bright smile and nods. He takes off his big overcoat, revealing his red sweater underneath. It seems to tug at his protruding belly. He drapes his coat over the arm of his seat, taking off his winter hat too. A light layer of hair is still on his head, despite how much balding he has. He slowly lowers himself into his seat and lets out a breath as he relaxes into his chair.

“Ah, they don’t make them like they used to.” He says, to no one in particular.

I look at him, feeling a bit lost.

He lets out a small chuckle. “The trains, I mean.”

I nod. “I’m sure there’s a lot that’s ‘not how it used to be’.”

He points a sturdy finger at me. “Hey now. Don’t be makin’ fun of me. I’m not keelin’ over yet.”

He lets out a hearty laugh. I give a forced laugh myself. No one else in the train seems to mind. The older woman turns another page. The business man leans his head back, looking like he’s about to fall asleep.

“But, I suppose you are right.” The older man tells me.

I lean forward a little. “About what?”

He lets out a lonely sigh. “Nothing is quite how it used to be.”

The older man sits forward. “You see, when I was about your age, I always loved coming and riding the trains. I never knew where I was going, nor did I care. I just loved to go and see what I could find. It didn’t matter where I was. It just mattered who I was with.”

I nod. “I take it you used to have a wife?”

“A wife? Oh, heaven’s no.” He leans back and puffs out his chest. “No, siree. I’ve been a lone traveler for decades now. No sense of direction, no sense of destination. Just simply goin’ wherever the train takes me.”

I tilt my head a little. “Then, who was with you?”

He looks at me, a little confused. “What do you mean?”

I let out a breath. “You said it didn’t matter where you went, it mattered who was with you. But if you’ve been traveling alone all this time, and you aren’t married, then who’s been with you?”

He gives a small grin. “You.”

I give an awkward chuckle. “I’m sorry?”

“Yes, you, and the last lady I met. And this ornery fellow this one time I rode with. And this other time, a very poor mother with her children. And a man who kept shushing me whenever I tried talking to him. And sometimes, it’s just me.”

I purse my lips. “You’ve just been doing this? For decades?”

He nods. “It’s so much fun.”

I let out a small laugh. “Fun?”

He shrugs. “I think so.”

I shake my head. “It sounds like you’ve been nothing but bothering people.”

He leans back. “Is that how you see me?”

I shrug.

He lets out a low hum. “Well, young man, what have you been doing?”

I tilt my head again. “What have I been doing?”

“Yes.” He clears his throat. “When I arrived, you were just staring out this window.”

He knocks on it for effect.

I shrug. “Daydreaming?”

“Is that a question or a statement?”

“A statement.”

“Then why do you sound so unsure?”

I open my mouth, but nothing comes out.

He leans back and lets out another hum. “What do you do?”

I let out a deep breath. “I work at a coffee shop back in my hometown.”

“That so?”

“Yep.”

“Do you like it?”

I think for a moment, then give a shrug.

“Well,” He lets out a breath and sits upright. “You are quite sure of being unsure about yourself.”

I scoff. “You don’t know me.”

He gives a cheeky grin. “I know enough.”

I shake my head. “And what about you? What do you do?”

He motions to the train. “This.”

“So, that’s it? You just go from train to train, never really planning on going anywhere or doing anything? You go and bug anyone who will tolerate you?”

“I mean no disrespect.”

“Then what do you mean?”

He lets out a breath. “You’ve been sitting here, staring out this window all this time?”

I look out the window. The scenery is changing as the train chugs along. The trees are becoming more and more sparse. The green fields are being replaced with yellow fields of wheat. The grey clouds are rolling away, revealing the bright blue sky behind it.

I turn back to him and nod. “Yep.”

He looks confused. “Why?”

I let out a deep breath. I look over to my bag. I see my sketchbook peeking out again. I do my best to hide it away.

The older man lets out another hum. “You draw?”

I look at him, then look away and shrug.

He motions outside. “Why not draw that?”

I shake my head. “It wouldn’t be worth it.”

He takes a long look out the window. “By the time you’re finished, you’d have quite the sunset drawn.”

I let out a breath. “That’s not what I meant.”

“And what do you mean?”

I purse my lips and swallow. “My art isn’t good.”

The old man scoffs. “Says who?”

“Says me. And everyone who’s ever seen my work.”

The older man shakes his head and shrugs with his hands. “Then why keep the book? Why take it with you?”

I look down to my bag. My sketchbook peeks out again. It’s taunting me again. It’s begging for attention. I clench my fist then relax back into an open palm.

I turn back to the old man and shake my head. “I don’t know.”

The older man smiles again. “Yes you do.”

I scoff. “Well, if you’re so sure about it, then tell me.”

The older man resituates himself in his seat. “Do you know what I was told when I started riding these trains?”

I shake my head.

“I was told, you better take a map, or else you’ll get lost.”

I hesitate. “And did you?”

He lets out a small laugh. “I’ve found my way from one city to the next. And then the train takes me to the next city and the next city. I may stay around for a little while. When I’ve had my fill, I find another train. Then, I go to a different city after that.”

I tilt my head. “So, you are lost?”

He shakes his head. “I am simply enjoying the ride.”

I stare at him. There was no malice or regret behind the old man’s eyes. I could almost mistake it for a childlike wonder. He wasn’t being naive or dumb. He sits tall, as if he was a deity offering up advice.

He lets out a deep breath. “Riding these trains, going from place to place. You never know who you’ll meet. You never know what you’ll see. You never know where you’ll end up next.”

“Sounds scary.”

“It’s exciting.”

The train shudders as we shuffle along. I look out the window again. The sky is completely free of clouds. I notice the bright blue sky changing to the late evening yellow and orange. The sun is in the distance, lowering in the sky. It shines on the wheat fields with a golden yellow hue as it calls to them. The wheat heeds its call, the wind blowing them towards the sun.

“I wanted to ride trains.” The older man explains, a bit of sun lighting around him. “And so I did.”

The scene unfolds in front of me. A sunset over the golden wheat fields. The wheat fields that are being called to the sun’s warm rays. I look down to my hands. My eyes quickly turn to my sketchbook, which is once again peeking out of my bag.

“If you wish to draw, then do it.”

I look into his kind eyes. “But no one likes my work. I-I don’t even think it’s worth my time.”

He leans forward and speaks softly. “If that’s true, then you would not have kept that book.”

I look back out to the scene. The train slows down and comes to a stop. I feel the urge overcome me. I whip out my sketchbook and a pencil. I quickly sketch out the sunset in front of me.

I lightly pencil out its shape. I scratch my pencil across the page to make out the windy wheat fields. I add a little bit of shading on the undersides of the wheat. I make small notes on the next page about the colors. The way the yellow fades into orange. How the fields are glistening with a golden glow.

I look at my sketch. I relentlessly compare it to the scene in front of me. I lightly erase and redraw the lines of wheat to better catch the wind in the scene. I rub over the portrait to capture the pockets of shade in the scene. I huff a sigh of relief and take it all in.

“It’s so beautiful.” The older man comments.

I look over to him. He has his hat and coat back on. He’s looking over my shoulder at my sketch. He gives a small nod and a bright smile.

I shake my head. “It still needs color, and a bit more shading.”

He nods. “And I’m sure you will give it some.”

I look up to him. “Why’s that?”

He gives a bright smile. “Because it’s the same reason I ride the trains.”

I watch him lightly hobble as he leaves me at my seat. I hear a conductor call again for any more passengers. I quickly look out the window. I don’t see any cities or towns. We were in the middle of nowhere.

The train lightly jolts. The golden fields start to swiftly move by. I keep myself glued to the window, searching for the old man. I don’t see him anywhere. The train rushes by, leaving the beautiful scene behind me. The sun sets even farther. The yellow and orange turn into a light purple and blue. The stars start to light up the oncoming night sky.

I give a deep sigh and lean my head against my window. The scene is gone. The moment has passed. I look down at my sketch and a smile sneaks on my face.