. .Raymond .
.An elderly Welsh couple on this train, chats in a precise
melodic singsong, an affectionate lullaby language. I eavesdrop and sketch
the man, peering from the corner of my eye. He sees me, smiles, and signs
my drawing. Two bright-eyed Welsh girls come over, too. They suggest I spend
a day in Wales. "Y'er Pres'dent, Jimmy Carter, came hy'er fishin' for saa-mon.
Carmarthan is th' next stop. Go to Cothi Bridge." I will.