The Railway Crossing

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Despite our town's general air of calm, we do have one thrilling spectacle: the pedestrian crossing at the railway station. It's a veritable carnival of activity compared to our sleepy pace. When a train approaches, the warning bells start clanging, red lights flash with a fervour rarely seen, and barriers drop down with a sense of urgency that makes even Barry’s (Bazza's) wholemeal bread adventure seem tame.

The whole town gathers at the crossing as if it’s the main event of the week. Children tug at their parents’ sleeves, dogs bark excitedly, and even Doris takes a break from her stamp collection to watch. There’s something almost electric about the anticipation, the shared understanding that, for a brief moment, something out of the ordinary is happening.

As the train thunders past, there’s a collective exhale, a return to the regular rhythm of life. The barriers lift, the bells cease their clanging, and the red lights stop their frenetic flashing. People resume their activities, exchanging nods and smiles as if they’ve just shared a secret, fleeting moment of excitement.

In Bundanoon, this brief burst of activity at the railway crossing is our own little piece of drama, a reminder that even in the quietest of places, there’s always a hint of excitement waiting to be found.