Chiming In To Make Things Better

"Live for moments you can't put into words," chimed an ornament adjacent to a railway track at Crescent Beach.

The wise advice, meant to inspire, was likely put there by locals wanting to create a serene space for passersby.

The wind-chime decoration dangling from an ornate garden arbor was barely audible as tanks with chemicals and loaded coal cars groaned and hissed, snaking along the track.

The long chain of containers blocked vehicles and walkers from going in and out of the seaside community, a real concern should there be an emergency.

It might take years for activists to convince people in power to reroute the track but meanwhile a thoughtful neighbor with an artistic touch provided seating.

Hand painted panels brought a splash of colour to the chairs. In a world filled with tragic events someone, more often than not, is trying to prevent disaster, beautify, bring comfort and make things better practically or creatively.

Able to cross the track after some twenty minutes, I spotted a strange creature holding a guitar. What could be cozier than a giant moss-covered teddy bear? This unique interpretation of wildlife wasn't alone.

A beaver drummer and bird songstress (below) completed a patriotic Canadian band. Since there was no explanation as to why the soundless musicians were there, I assumed their motionless parade was designed to delight onlookers with wordless moments and, like the train, was just passing through.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms

Stationary Train Passenger In White Rock

A TRAVELER in a motionless relaxed pose, with a suitcase by his side, is ready to board a train he can never catch.

The bronze statue is a new feature that stands outside a former train station, and now White Rock Museum, that no longer sells tickets to ride. Reportedly commissioned for $80,000, the work by Denis Kleine is called The Passenger.

The dapper mustached man that seems on the cusp of coming to life enhances the seaside scenery with his realism. He provides an exquisite glimpse into an era when trains were bold without being intimidating and had an aura of practicality as well as romance.

It is ironic that the stationary "passenger" appears at a time when the City is contemplating options it may or may not have to remove and relocate the track run by Great Northern Railway (GN) in the early years. The railway evolved from being the lifeblood of a small Canadian town to being viewed more as a hazard that at this point in history is owned and operated by Burlington Northern Santa Fe (BNSF) in the US.

Trains that pass by now are the swift and silent Amtrak, (that carries passengers from Seattle to Vancouver in Canada), and mile-long frequent freight trains transporting such goods as lumber, hazardous chemicals and dusty coal destined for ports in faraway places.

People have accidentally been injured and killed on these tracks. And since the derailment in Lac-Mégantic, Quebec, there has been renewed unease about train routes cutting through heavily populated areas like the border town of White Rock and also nearby Crescent Beach where extraordinarily long strings of boxcars can block access to emergency vehicles for many critical minutes.

The attractive gent with a glint in his eye was unconcerned, however, as perhaps I should have been since everything was perfectly fine for the both of us at that moment and place in time.

While photographing the sculpture, I had a chance encounter with a woman who was polishing one of many train-shaped plaques embedded into the walkway designed to commemorate special occasions or to celebrate a life. I learned she was a mother who tragically lost her daughter, Heather, to cancer. Heather's plaque shone the brightest, thanks to her loving and dedicated mom.

I took my umbrella off the immovable suitcase and wished the world were a safer place. We are all passengers to unknown destinations. Disease, natural disasters, random accidents and man’s stunning inhumanity to man (recent beheadings and burning of a person alive come to mind) make me want to hide under my umbrella. But I keep moving because, unlike the statue, I am lucky that I can ... and I can jump on board whenever anything good arrives.

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Copyright by Penelope Puddlisms