nothus_a_um

On the bus today, a woman sitting in the aisles below mine stared out the left-side windows too. We looked at the flock of pigeons the bus had run into - a natural part of their lives, as bears must be to salmon. But framed in the salt-rime of my back-window, a pigeon in mid-flight framed against an old warehouse building. In her window, framed against the paint store, she saw the same thing, and we smiled together.