Now that we live in the city, I catch the bus to work. I was standing at the bus stop this afternoon when along came an upright, elderly man wearing a hat and raincoat. He stopped when he saw me, took off his hat and remarked on the black, threatening sky above us. I said I hoped he wasn’t too far from home given that the heavens were about to open. He said airily that he was still going to walk around the lake* and only then make his way home. He also mentioned it was his 85th birthday today. I was speechless and gave him a thumbs up as he went on his spritely way. What a good advertisement he is for the daily constitutional!
There were a young mum and dad on the bus, accompanied by their little daughter. They got off before I did and the little girl struggled to climb off the seat. “Don’t forget me, guys” she called to her parents as they prepared to alight. Of course they waited for her and she trotted down the aisle to the door. It is customary in New Zealand to thank the driver when you leave a bus. “Thanks, mate” said the dad in a blokey, friendly way. “Thanks, mate” said his daughter in her little piping voice. All the passengers on the bus chuckled.
Chance encounters like these make my day!
*the lake he referred to is Lake Rotoroa, seen here on the day balloons drifted across it.