W inter nights in rural Maine are marked by a dense silence， reinforced by the snow-laden landscape.2 As someone who grew up in a city， I am acutely aware of this and sometimes find myself straining，
W inter nights in rural Maine are marked by a dense silence， reinforced by the snow-laden landscape.2 As someone who grew up in a city， I am acutely aware of this and sometimes find myself straining， as I lie in bed， for evidence of civilization beyond the walls of my house.3 Every so often I receive it—the passing rumble4 of the freight train.
The railroad tracks lie not 500 feet from my front door. I drive or walk over them every day， and when I do， I often take time to glance down their length， to where the shining rails coalesce5 and disappear into the woods in the distance. I may even get to see the train itself. I watch as it approaches， slowly and inexorably， its boxcars swaying on straining sleepers.6 As I sit in my idling car before the blinking warning lights， I have a frontrow seat to one of industrial America’s great shows as the behemoth clanks and squeals past me， its engineer ensconced high up in the black diesel locomotive like a pasha.7
Seeing the train by day is always a treat， but hearing it in the dead of night is comforting.
Long before it reaches the crossing8 I can sense its approach. It’s not quite a rumbling yet， but rather a perception that the earth is being disturbed in some deep， subterranean manner.9 And then I hear it—the gnashing of metal as the boxcars yaw and bang.10 Finally， after these preliminaries， the climax： the airsplitting blast of the horn， two long bleats， one short， and a concluding long.11 Once past the crossing， the train clanks down the line toward Bangor， falls silent， and I drift off12 to sleep.
There are people who wrinkle their noses at the idea of living near a freight railway， as if it were unseemly.13 Now and then I am asked if the noise bothers me. Bothers？ The only time I was bothered was a few months ago when， inexplicably14， the train ceased running. I walked down to the rails and stared to the left and right， like a parent anxious about an overdue15 child. What on earth had become of my train？
I asked around town， but all I got was corroboration16 by others who lived along the line that it hadn’t been heard from in the longest time. I took my consternation17 to bed with me on a particularly cold night， and I determined to call the railway in the morning to ask about its wellbeing. But no sooner had I made this resolution than I heard it： the premonitory disturbance of the outside world as something large and muscular crept upon its surface.18 And then the clanking， and the yawing， and the triumphant19 blasts of the horn. You might wonder how such a racket20 could put me to sleep. But， like a lullaby， that’s exactly what it did.
I know this is an idle fantasy， but I’ve been trying to contrive21 some （legal） way of getting a ride on the freight train. I am mindful of something the great travel writer Paul Theroux said， “I have seldom heard a train go by and not wished I was on it.”22
In this light， just yesterday， while I was splitting wood at the edge of dusk， I sensed it： that earth movement in the distance. Dropping my maul， I ambled down the snow-banked road to the tracks and waited.23 She loomed， she rattled， she approached， and finally arrived in all her majesty.24 I looked up at the train driver. He looked down at me. His smile acknowledged that he knew what I wanted. I realized he couldn’t take me with him， but it didn’t really matter： I was already swept up25 and on my way.
All that remained was the night， and bed， and silence， and the arrival of the next train to tell me that all was well.
1. freight： 货运；lullaby： 摇篮曲，催眠曲。
2. 在缅因州的乡村，冬季的夜晚万籁俱寂，四处茫茫白雪覆盖，静上加静。Maine： 缅因州，美国东北部新英格兰地区的一个州。
3. 作为一个在城市长大的人，我敏锐地察觉到了这一点；有时我躺在床上，发现自己翘首企盼着墙外传来现代文明的音迹。strain： 竭尽全力。
4. rumble： 隆隆声。
5. coalesce： 合并，結合。
6. 我看着火车缓缓驶近，不可阻挡，货车车厢在不堪重负的枕木上摇摇晃晃。inexorably：不可阻挡地；sleeper： 铁路的枕木，轨枕。
7. 我坐在空转的汽车里，在闪烁的警示灯前，这个庞然大物当啷作响尖鸣着从我身旁呼啸而过，我仿佛坐赏工业化的美国的一场盛宴，货车司机就像一位高官，安坐在高高的柴油火车的黑色火车头里。idling： 空转的；behemoth： 庞然大物；clank： 发出当啷声；squeal： 尖叫；ensconce： 安置，安坐；diesel： 柴油；locomotive： 机车，火车头；pasha： 拥有帕夏称号的高级文官或武官，帕夏是旧时奥斯曼帝国和北非高级文武官员的称号，置于姓名后。
8. crossing： 铁路的辙叉，道口。
9. 那时还听不到轰隆声，只能感觉到地下深处有什么在搅动着土地。subterranean： 地下的。
10. 然后，火车偏航，砰砰直响，我听到了金属摩擦的声音。gnash： 咬牙，磨牙；yaw：偏航。
11. 这些开场之后，便迎来了最后的高潮：震耳欲聋、冲破天际的汽笛声，两声拉长的哔哔声，一短，最后再一长。preliminary： 初步行动，准备工作；climax： 高潮；blast： 轰鸣；bleat： 羊或小牛般的叫声。
12. drift off： 迷迷糊糊地睡去。
13. wrinkle one’s nose： 皱鼻子，表示惊讶、不确定或是反感等；unseemly： 不适宜的。
14. inexplicably： 莫名地，费解地。
15. overdue： 过期未到的，延误的，此处指过了预产期还没出生的。
16. corroboration： 确证，证实。
17. consternation： 惊慌失措。
18. 然而，我刚作了这个决定就听到了外面的骚动，仿佛有什么庞大健壮的东西爬上了地表。premonitory： 先兆的，预兆的。
19. triumphant： 得意洋洋的，胜利的。
20. racket： 喧哗，吵闹。
21. contrive： 策划，想出。
22. mindful： 念及的，留心的；Paul Theroux：保罗·索鲁，美国旅行作家和小说家，最著名的作品是1975年的《火车大巴扎》。
23. maul： 大锤；amble： 漫步；snowbanked： 积雪的，堆雪的。
24. loom： 隐现，隐约可见；rattle： 嘎啦嘎啦地响；majesty： 庄严，雄伟。
25. sweep up： 飞快地抱起，此处指作者的思绪已经随着飞驰的火车奔向远方。
There is a meme1 that speaks directly to the hearts and minds of the overly self-conscious. Perhaps you’ve seen it； it goes something like this： “Brain： ‘I see you are trying to sleep. May I offer you
If you’re into reading， you’ll probably have noticed how a brand new book has a rather special smell. Yes， it’s that new book smell—and it’s quite different from the smell of an older book. What’s goi
Think plants are just boring green things that we use for food and decoration？ Think again！ Plants have lives that you’re probably totally unaware of. Humankind has grown up alongside plants， and we’
“海滩读物”，顾名思义，就是在海滩度假时的读物。这一概念最初见于图书交易出版物上，而如今已被广泛使用。对于“海滩读物”的定义众说纷纭。有人认为所有的惊悚小说都是“海滩读物”，有人以为言情小说才是，而有人则说只有畅销的平装书才算得上“海滩读物”。然而对于阅读者来说，“海滩读物”只是轻松假期的一个消遣，所以只要能够做到带人逃离日常琐事，是哪一种类型又有什么关系呢？ The “beach read”
