through the dark landscape

11. 2.2016
The son is awake, it is half past four. He is making noises, he has found yet another interest. And he is up early to try it out, to run the computer, to talk to his friends about the making of websites.
It is too early for all this. And the cat wants attention too. so sit in the dark, the cat on the lap, happy cat.
 and then the seaside melody. It is five, time for a quick shower – Time to get up. The orchard was forgotten today, never mind. and then the clothing is on, get the bag, and go down the stairs. Pass the cat, the Miriam cat longing  to leave the house for the wild streets, but it may not.
  It is a pet, and they have their duties too.
 The street is dry, and it is cold. There is no traffic, there are no pedestrians. On passing the discount bakery, see that the interior has been flooded, the windows are steamed up.  Dolores is to be seen from a distance, she is in the bus shelter already. go through the central main arch of the town gates, and at the bus stop see that she is wearing a grief- stricken facial expression today. Say good morning, today there is hardly a reaction. White haired man arrives, lights up a cigarette. stay upwind, the smell of tobacco is too much at this early hour.
 The bus is late, a few minutes. The automatic signpost showing the timetable does not work this early either. It prophecies half an hours wait. All nonsense.

 At the station it has started to snow large white flakes. Yomer's cafe is being run by the bald shaven man today. He sees the crowd coming from the bus, and calls for help from his colleagues. A dark haired girl appears; and proceeds to get in the way. If she does the job long enough she will learn. Today is a day of ill humour, sore back and loud tinnitus. All of these travelling companions, unknown in earlier life, all part of it now.

Ten minutes later, out on the platform in a minor snowstorm, read the notice that the train is to be delayed for ten minutes more due to a defective level crossing down the line.
Indulge in a change of habit and step into the waiting part of the train at the end of the platform.It is crowded, but it is dry.
Find a free seat beside a sleeping woman, an office worker going by her general appearance and attire. The man opposite has a cloth bag on the table before him, with a children's nursery rhyme printed upon it. The last free seat around the small table is taken by a young woman with black-rimmed spectacles and a black jacket. Her hair is sleek black too. She takes out her book and reads.
That is the way in which the journey from Lands hut to Freising is experienced today.

The train rushes through the dark landscape, wobbling seriously. These are small commuter trains, cheap, and with poor suspension. They are unable  to absorb the irregularities in these tracks laid across the marshy countryside beside the river.