Waiting for a train that never comes

I waited for quite a long time for the 3.30 from Romney to pull into view; I wanted to record its lonesome whistle ringing out against the bleak and treeless sky. But the train never came. Instead I found myself leaning on the station fence and listening to the dull drone of the power station, the shifting wind, the emptiness and the quiet. The occasional seagull chips in but the main sounds here are of the wind whipping about. Dungeness reminds me of the Wild West somehow. And standing at the station listening intently to the quiet sounds, I felt like I was in that amazing movie - Once upon a Time in the West. Mark and I kept singing the harmonica refrain from that film to each other as we traipsed back, no train to be found.