This morning‘s passenger train, still officially within Wasilla but about to depart and roll on to Fairbanks. I am going to make a book about Wasilla and title it, “A Train Rolls Through It.“ Not really. I have too much respect for the late Norman Maclean, author of “A River Runs Through It,” which unfolds in Missoula, Montana, Maclean’s hometown and mine for the most indelible four years of my child and youth hood. Yet I do hope to make a book about Wasilla and the train will roll through it, but it won’t be about the train. The train will just be there, as it will in my book about Missoula, the first draft of which I completed years ago. I need to get back to Missoula at least one more time before I can finish it. I have many books left to finish up, yet so little time left to do so. I plan to finish my next book by summer’s end. blueberries and walnuts and had drank two coffees, so I just headed home. Wasilla, 7/11/20 Photograph courtesy of Bill Hess