Leaving the Bus Behind

The sky was brightening. The day was clear. I had already been sitting too long. So when the bus stopped, I bolted.

And there was the ground again, the pavement stones, the slanting corners, the walkways littered with thin brown leaves. There was the rhythm of footfall, the comfort of moving briskly into the day.

A woman with two small dogs ambled along, coffee mug in hand. A few briefcase-toting commuters ran to cross before the light changed. Some early morning joggers zoomed by. Only these few guardians of the morning.

But mostly it was just me and the way ahead. Not a bad way to start the day.