My childhood home until the age of around ten was next to a trainline, sitting above a steep embankment.

The trainline was for freight, and the trains would run at night. I would feel their rumblings as they passed and it would give me a familiar comfort as I wondered where these trains had come from and where they were heading.

The overgrown embankment was my back yard and my friends and I would spend our time building dens, making rope swings, and wandering up and down the tracks.

When I hear the distant rumblings of a train it can take me back to that house on the hill and those railway embankments. The tracks have long since been ripped up, the old line now part of a National Cycle Network route running from Kingston upon Hull to Manchester, passing through the Pennines.