Riding the Bus

For various reasons, I had to take the bus home after work today. Well, I shouldn't say I "had" to, it was more like I "got" to. With my fare money clutched tightly in my mittened hand, I felt like a child again. I noticed the late afternoon sun lighting up the taller buildings, felt the cold wind whip my hair around, felt alive for some reason I can't explain.
The bus driver was friendly, giving us updates on the time and weather over the speakers.
There were 2 ladies with mental disabilities riding near the front who were hilarious. In fact, I think they were the happiest people on the bus. When another bus passed us and the white-haired, smiling driver waved enthusiastically to these 2 ladies, they roared with laughter. They remind me of the lady in the book I'm reading right now entitled "Riding the Bus With My Sister." It's about a woman with cognitive disabilities who has chosen to spend her days riding the city buses where she lives, and for one year her sister decides to join her. Many are the stories of friendly bus drivers and the impact they have on people's lives. Maybe that's why today's ride home was so special - I was riding with an awareness of others and attempting to "tune in" to the bus culture.
Also, I felt connected in a way that just isn't possible sitting alone in traffic in my car.