All of It Was the Path

A man stands beneath a forest of tall trees, railroad dust settling on his jacket like ash. He works. He loves. He loses. And still the next morning, he wakes to the sun and keeps going.

The movie “Train Dreams” isn’t full of plot twists. It doesn’t roar with the typical Hollywood thunder. It’s slow. A beautiful and simple movie, in my opinion. Early 20th century. Timber camps, small towns, cabins by rivers. Days stitched together by labor and quiet. The kind of life that doesn’t make headlines but makes a soul.

You watch him build a life. Joy and hardship pass like seasons. And then, because life insists, you watch him put one foot in front of the other.