Having enjoyed an afternoon mooch around sunny Southport and a stroll on the sand, I headed back to the train station for the journey home. It was 15:17 and the brightness of the afternoon was fading fast. The journey would take just 33 minutes, but dusk was approaching, and the last of the winter daylight would almost have gone by the time I arrived back in Wigan.
Just a few minutes out of town, behind us now the retail park and long terraces of B&Bs, we reach the start of several miles of mainly agricultural land.
I have my Kindle poised, ready to resume the le Carre I started reading again yesterday, more than 20 years after being enthralled by the paperback publication, later made into a film with Sean Connery in the lead role, playing a very different sort of spy.
The Kindle’s still poised as I find my attention drawn instead to the view from the window, one scene quickly changing into the next as the train speeds ahead through the arable landscape.
The track cuts through a patchwork of fields, a vast open space as far as the eye can see in shades of gold, ochre, muted and vibrant greens, rusted oranges and rich browns. The sky is still blue, and the light plays on water and earth, casting shadows or setting on fire.
A few stops outside Southport and a ticket inspection is underway. At this time on a week day afternoon, we passengers are small in number and a well-behaved lot, every conductor’s dream. In this carriage there’s only me and a young woman sitting behind. We both produce our tickets and receive thanks and a winning smile. The conductor moves on.
Back to the window. In the few minutes that I’ve been distracted, the light has faded a little more, creating a somewhat mysterious effect.
Acres upon acres of farm land lie mostly dormant, long since harvested, recovering and reenergising for the next planting, though some reveal signs of recent working and a few even show off healthy winter crops. An abundance of cabbages and kale are grown in West Lancashire.
The train slows as we approach the next stop, the attractive station house now defunct and possibly under development for another use. The lady announcer reminds us, if we are alighting, to take all our belongings and mind the gap between the train and the platform edge. A passenger from the next coach heads towards the door nearest me, belongings in hand and ready to watch for the gap. She wishes the conductor a good evening and good luck in the next round of strikes next week. Did I really hear that? I must have, as the conductor laughs and replies, “We’ll need it.” Satisfied that no more passengers are going make a last minute dart out of or onto the train, she steps up from the platform, locks the doors, and we’re off again.
A gorgeous full moon is now visible behind the thin clouds, though it has failed to appear in these photographs. Look at the sky and it could be 10:30 pm in mid-June, only the bare-branched trees and the russet hues revealing the true season.
A couple of stops before home, the enchanting views gradually subside, replaced by scenes of industry and domestic life. Russet grasses become trackside rusted metal, and vast housing estates replace furrowed fields. Street lights, Christmas lights, traffic and hubbub announce our return as we slowly pull into Wallgate station. The lady announcer gives the reminder about belongings and another gap to watch out for, and thanks us for travelling with Northern Rail. On the platform, the pleasant conductor gives another winning smile. I don’t mention strikes.
Welcome to the Beautiful North 
Sorry you never got to your novel, but postponing the reading pleasure was worth it because you were able to enjoy so many serene late autumn afternoon scenes. I also love watching the landscape through the train window.
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It’s a perfect opportunity to sit back and let the mind wander.
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Barley Blair. The Russia House. I enjoyed that one. What a lovely journey. I often drive that route to and from Southport, but have never done it by train. Wonderful photographs, and the time to contemplate. I also wish the railway men well with their dispute.
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Thank you very much. I am happy with how they turned out considering that they were taken through a window and with a rather basic phone. I have read a few le Carre recently, some for the first time and a couple, like The Russia House, again and a long time after the first reading. In some ways it feels very dated ( phone directories, low tech etc.), yet in other respects nothing much has changed.
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You turn a routine railway journey into a novel.Wanted it to last longer and couldn’t put it down. Excellent words and pictures.Michael x..
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Thank you Michael. You’re very kind.
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You have captured some lovely images on your train journey. The light is perfect. I love to watch the world go by when I’m on the train too. Sometimes see Deer in the fields on the way home from Blackburn.
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Thank you very much. I’ve seen rabbits and hares but to see a deer would be amazing.
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What a lovely journey. This time of year does produce some beautiful sunrises and sunsets, pity they’re usually during working hours. ☺️
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So true. I am off work at the moment following recent surgery, and this was the furthest away from home I had been for quite a while. I’m glad I chose that time to travel back home.
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It’s many years since I last went to Southport by train so it was nice to see these photos, and the sun getting lower in the sky gives a lovely glow over the fields 🙂
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I’m glad you like them, Eunice. From Wigan, getting the train to Southport is easier than driving.
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Driving from here to Southport can be a bit of a pain as there’s no really direct route but once I get away from Chorley it’s quite a pleasant drive when it’s a sunny day.
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