Waiting at the train station

I was waiting by the train station tonight, on my way home. It was cold, not freezing but still cold, it had rained a lot by the end of the afternoon so it felt quite wet. Like yesterday, I enjoyed this quiet moment after a hard day. I didn't see the cats, sadly. If it hadn't been so cold, I would have felt like in a spaghetti western (this one). It is not even far fetched: I saw a few days ago a woman wearing cowboy hat and coat, she looked like Clint Eastwood (or Clint Eastwood's female wannabe). She was eccentric, but I thought the clothes were appropriate for the journey. I associate train travels with adventure and mystery, and the small, middle of nowhere train station I was in felt very much like a great setting for the beginning of such story. This reminded me why the train is maybe my favourite mode of transport.