Weaving Tapestries, Painting Pictures, Dreaming Dreams

Travelling in a Czech train to visit Konopište, the castle home of Franz Ferdinand, close to Prague. It is a beautiful place on a lake, surrounded by forest, near the town of Benešov U Prahy, about 40 mins by train from Prague. The sun is in my eyes and I am unable to enjoy the beautiful landscape and so I turn my attention from the window to my fellow passengers. We are in a compartment with 4 other people. The train is full and outside our compartment a young boy, probably in his teens is sitting on the ground with his backpack, staring out of the window. I doubt he can see anything much other than the tops of trees from that level, but he is probably looking, not seeing as he seems preoccupied with other thoughts. The slim, middle aged lady diagonally opposite me, in a green and white striped sweater,  hair tied neatly in a ponytail, has been busy reading her hard cover book, since we boarded. Next to me is a plumpish lady in a grey sweater, with short, dark hair and dangling earrings, who fell asleep after leaving Prague and has been sleeping in the same position, with chin down on her chest, ever since. A young father has been struggling with his little daughter since we boarded. The little one looks about 3 she is a cute child with a blonde ponytail but her red and puffy eyes and occassional sneezes and coughs tell the story of an infection and she moves restlessly, sometimes standing, sometimes lying down, sometimes sitting, she is not crying but is fractious, calming only when he calls her mother and she talks to her. I feel for the father he is at a loss, not knowing how to comforf his child. The poor wee mite too looks like she is very uncomfortable.
Soon we reach our destination and everyone gets up to leave and in the rush and confusion there is no time for any good byes. We came together as strangers and we parted as strangers, without exchanging names or any contacts, yet we will carry bits of each other in our memories.