Railway stations stretch my mind. They are places of comings, goings, waitings, quietude, hecticity and evokers of emotion.
I was waiting at Waterford Station last night to collect son, Harry, off the Dublin train and, as always, my eyes were drawn to the timber clad signal box which dates back to 1906.
It’s almost impossible to think of all the trains, passengers, railway staff, people waiting to collect passengers or wave them goodbye who have been watched over by this distinctive building up on its metal support frame.
Similarly, how many people, like me, have a whole mixum-gatherum of memories that seem to live in this signal box which opens up each time they have occasion to be in around the station or simply passing by for fleeting moments.
Little did I ever imagine when I was being collected by my father at the station as a teenager, that one day I would be collecting a ‘child’ of mine!
It was only when I was driving into the station last night, after shrugging off hubby’s offer to go instead, that I remembered how my mother used to stress how much Father loved collecting us because he got to hear all the news on the drive back out to Tramore.
I nearly turned back to ‘let’ hubby go but it was just a nearly!
SOCIAL BRIDGE ~ Jean Tubridy connecting with you from Ireland 
Jean I always loved that too! Hope you are well and enjoying summer xx
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Glad it has meaning for you too, Catherine.
Loving the sunshine. Hope you are too.
love all things ‘railway’ as its in my genes! spent an hour at a couple of old disused signal boxes earlier in the summer.
Only an hour!!!
I seem to get lost in these sorts of things for hours on end.
I only had an hour…..but yes I know what you mean! 🙂
They perks of parenthood, hold them close they can so easily disappear ❤
Wise words, Willow. x
That’s not often said about me!
Oh I doubt that! xx
😋😊😉
I could relate to this post, Jean! I am always the one to make the pickup at Sea-Tac airport–don’t want to miss a moment of time with the kids. And I often think of those who have come before me. Old bridges, the altar of an ancient church, even looking at the mirror in our dining room, I sometimes think of all the loved ones now gone who looked into the mirror when it was in my childhood home, to comb his hair or put on her lipstick, or stand back to back with my grandmother to see if he/she had grown taller than her.
Definitely kindred spirits, Naomi!
What a great old signal box which I never noticed when passing through there. I always thought it strange that the track was never extended over the bridge into the city proper.
(Oh, I believe the flat rock above is now a Repeal slogan 🙂 )
Hi Roy, I was thinking of you when I saw the newly painted ‘Repeal.’ I wonder what next?
As for the line, it breaks my heart that it doesn’t go to Rosslare anymore even. Short sighted, I feel, like the other closures back in the day, including Waterford-Tramore.
This is a very inspiring post this morning Jean:) I can’t stop thinking about the ideas for a story and a poem….and I’m supposed to be editing the novel today:):) Procrastination is lovely sometimes!!!!
Hi Olga, yes procrastination has its moments, though I suppose we should try to limit them-unless, of course, there’s something much more potentially memorable to do!
Very cool Jean. I love train stations and train engines and equipment. There is a similar feeling for bus stations, trucks and airports. The steady state of these modes is movement. And they can take people and freight along with them. I have this theory that transportation is a form of communicating – instead of words or other two dimensional formats, it instead communicates three dimensional info like humans or goods or even animals. The movement of humans is really freedom.
Great post Jean. Thank You.
Love the place and the image of time passing over it that I got from reading this post, Jean.
What wonderful memories of history repeating itself! And how nice to have him all to yourself for the ride with no interruptions.
That’s a gorgeous signal box, Jean. There’s a beautiful one at the railway station in Dundalk, it always reminds me of this one in Waterford every time I see it.