Looking out of the window, above the reams of paper I am wading through: this is my view.
Sometimes slow trains are good things. Sometimes they make you look up from the text and invite you to watch, waitn and experience. Sometimes slow trains offer gracious surprises; frosty fields, pastel sunrises and a blanket of mist that guarentees that even at minus 8 degrees c, the world is enveloped and safe.