There is a train line behind our house. The trains were never very fast, thus never very loud. In a rather sedate pace, they would pull by the house at set times during the day. We used to organize our days around the trains - oh, the 8:25, time for Doug to leave the house. 19:25 - time for the boys to go to bed.
There hasn't been a train once since we got back. I have yet to find out how that happened. Our nanny ventured a guess that the train schedule might have been cut back because of the season but I'm dubious. There is simply no more train traffic, neither personal nor freight.
I miss those trains. Trains have always been romantic to me, and also a sign of "things are still all right". When train routes are cut, it almost always means nothing good. Well. I guess we'll see.