When I let my dogs out this morning, I could hear the long low whistle of a train far down in the valley below. It brought back a memory of the yard at the house Kody and I lived in. The house was only a few blocks from the track, so if you sat in the yard you were sure to hear the train.

When we first moved in, we knew that the yard needed work. The yard best resembled a mud pit, filled with crab grass and huge soggy areas. Together, on the days that Kody was feeling productive, we changed the yard. This became a huge project we did together. We put in beautiful garden beds, added dirt to the yard, planted clover, and created a beautiful space.

We loved spending time out in the yard. I remember one particular moment specifically. Our plan had been to go camping, but he hadn’t woken up in a mood that made that possible. He still wanted to make camping happen in some way, so he set up camp chairs in the yard and started a fire in the fire pit. It was a beautiful summer day. We sat outdoors and talked together while the dog ran around and rolled in the grass.

The conversation wasn’t about depression, or his work, or anything serious. It was a moment where we were just able to enjoy time together. We roasted marshmallows and kept the dog from burning his nose on the fire pit. Together, we laughed and joked with each other. Sticky marshmallow stuck to our fingers and got in my hair. Since we were so close to the tracks, the whistle of the train rang out at regular intervals during the day. I know that the noise drives people crazy but for me, it is nostalgic.

Train whistles take me back to summer days like this one. All the days we spent working on the yard and the days we enjoyed it together.