The birth of wanderlust

When I was a young, I would lay in my bed at my parents house where late at night I could hear the distant sound of a train passing along the tracks across town. Occasionally there would be a lone long whistle, but normally there was just the sound of the wheels running along the tracks. It would give me chills and I would fall asleep imagining all the wonderful places where it would travel. Fanaticizing how exciting it would be if I could just get on the train.