The tracks are rusty. Year after year, the rain creates a reddish film on them that no train wheels have worn away for a long time. The silence is almost perfect. Only the wind plays with the tall grass, and every now and then one of the old railroad ties creaks. 🚃It’s hard going. Every so often, a young tree pushes its way up between the sleepers, as if nature were trying to reclaim the railroad...Show More ▾