Three miniature trains were winding along three sets of tracks at a railroad museum in Kingman, Arizona. They coursed around towns and farms made of plastic, stone, and wood. Cows stood here, and grain storage structures there. Somewhat like watching vehicles at cloverleaf highway intersections, the trains were mesmerizing. The sounds and speeds were varied, but at some point, the motions of three separate trains become connected, as though they are separate entities, yet also one whole entity as in an orchestra.

Riding on full-size trains can be like a song. The background beat is clickety-clack as the train moves over the tracks; you can feel the pulse and bumps. The train itself is like a melody, fast, in swaying motion, separate from the countryside, and connected. The song slows as the train slows down, and sometimes halts, at the stations, then picks up momentum once again.