Ka chink, ka chink, ka chink, ka chink, the sounds of the chains on the car tires as they moved down the highway adjacent to my house on a snowy, winter night.
Then, the occasional clanking of a broken chain, breaking the silence of the night as it banged against a fender, halting the mesmerizing rhythm.
Sounds of the night, over and over I’d hear as I tried to fall asleep. The zap, zap, zap of ice pellets as they’d hit the window when the snow would occasionally turn to sleet offered its own unusual sounds with no particular rhythm.
I’d hear the motion of the electric railroad train on the far side of the highway as its steel wheels moved steadily along the metal tracks, its sounds, and the rhythm, almost hypnotizing, while the sparks from the wet third rail sent up flickering lights reflecting across my bedroom wall.
It is interesting how the mind can so vividly recall certain images, almost as though they’d just happened, although there have since been a near lifetime of winters.