Wordful Wednesday from Clown Circus is for those of us that like to showcase a photo(s) but that just can’t seem keep our mouths shut about it (them). If you’d like to play along, post a photo {or more if you are so inclined} on your blog, and let the words roll.
You
can’t tell from this photo, but I am waiting at a bus stop at the intersection
of Speedway and Stone in Tucson, last Friday morning.
I
wasn’t expecting to experience bliss while riding the bus, but I couldn’t help
myself. I love connecting with fellow humans – and there is nothing quite so
human as climbing onto a public transit bus and moving from one spot to
another. It can be cumbersome and slow and yet, it always fascinates me.
So
many people who are “forced into riding the bus” are angry about it.
I
see it completely differently.
Riding
the bus is an adventure. There are few people as friendly as bus drivers and
even fewer people who want to help you out as much as your fellow bus riders. You can tell who the helpful ones will be by the smiles and willingness to look you in the eye.
That
Friday morning at the intersection of Stone and Speedway in Tucson, I had already
had a soulful moment with an agave cactus. I had experienced a thirty-second
friendship with an unusual fellow traveler and I was working my way toward
University of Arizona and eventually to see my daughter, Katherine, who was
singing in Tucson and was the entire point of my visit.
I
didn’t know when I took this photo I wouldn’t make it to U of A, I was actually
one block too far north to be where I wanted to be, but I did manage to
discover a local Smoothie spot and drink the best smoothie of my life.
In
those moments at Stone and Speedway, I met a man from Burundi.
Suddenly
I wished with all my heart I had studied French. “English is difficult,” he
said, in sunrise clear, melodious English. His voice sounded like a tenor
recorder or the deepest notes on a flute.
I
wondered what he would sound like speaking French or whatever language his
people speak in Burundi.
Until
today, I had never met anyone from Burundi.
In
the past twelve months I have ridden buses in Seattle,. Sioux Falls, San
Francisco, Tucson and Bakersfield. You come face-to-face with reality when you
ride the bus.
I’ve
ridden the Metro in Los Angeles and the BART in the Bay Area. I have ridden
Amtrak several times.
I
love looking at the faces of people riding along together due to whatever set
of circumstances urged them to take Bus #5 at 9:29 or into the subway at
precisely the same moment I did.
You
can’t have these experiences tucked away underneath your seatbelt of your
Toyota Corolla or Ford Explorer. You can believe yourself to be safe in there,
all alone, windows rolled up, mindlessly listening to the radio or helping yourself
to grow by listening to a book on tape.
I
would rather be standing under an aging tree, gazing up at the blue sky,
conversing slowly with someone who wishes I had taken up the study of French at
some point in my life.
= = =
Julie publishes her ezine, the Daily Passion Activator, which includes an Essay and a Poem every week day - inspiration delivered directly into your email box. Why not Subscribe today? It's free.
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