Where the steel rails never end

I took this picture earlier this week on the platform of London's Via Rail station. It's a jewel of a facility whose construction began the transformation of the city's once-derelict downtown - well, it's still kinda derelict, but we'll leave that discussion for another day - and has been a regular backdrop to our family's adventures.

It was a dimly lit early morning, mixed with the kind of grey, snow-tinged dampness that signals winter's impending arrival. I had just walked my mom to the train and, as has become my habit, was standing on the platform waiting for the train to leave. I don't know why I do this, but I feel funny just turning around and walking away. My mom, bless her, had taken a seat on the other side of the train and had no idea I was there, but that's not the point - it made me feel better to be there, so I stayed.

It didn't take long for the platform to empty out, and soon enough I was standing completely alone. It was a strangely peaceful moment to be in a place of such transition, so close to to many who were going so far, yet still wrapped in near-absolute silence. Soon enough I'd be back in the car on my way to another busy day, but for now I wanted to remember what it felt like to deliberately put the world on hold for a bit.

Your turn: Being alone. Please discuss.

One more thing: What does this really grainy pic from my smartphone have to do with "seeing red"? The rail lights way beyond the end of the tunnel were what first attracted my attention. Squint hard and you'll see 'em. Click here to share your own red or reddish view of the world.