Bus Musings

I kinda like bus rides (as long as they don't make me feel nauseous), as they afford me time to sit and think. I can't do much else anyway, and that includes writing, which is unfortunate, because then what I think doesn't get recorded and gets driven away with the bus, I suppose.

However, a lot of the things resonate with what many of my fellow bloggers have written recently, and since the words often escape me when I sit in from of this screen, I'll just rest in the knowledge that I'm not the only one thinking such deep morose thoughts. Whether we're just becoming more realistic, or cynical, or both (or just old!), I don't want to visit.

Getting the bus before 8 affords great views as well, especially this week, with the foggy night just lifting around then, while the orange sun struggles to break through. We pass by several fields and the shadows of people moving amongst the fog contrasting with the sharp branches of the trees, coloured around by the grey-white mist gradually tinted pink and orange by the rising sun, is a sight that makes me itch to take paintbrush to paper (yet I never do, as it'll destroy my mind's image immediately). Grass frosted white overnight melt to brilliant green patches where they're touched by the yellow rays. Sleepy streets make nondescript runways for the majestic sun to strut its stuff, its hues of warm orange marching down the rows of houses and turning the skies above them a light burgundy.

Paeds has been picking up, and so has been giving me matter to chew on during bus rides home, and at other times just sucking just enough energy from me to leave me dropping to sleep in my seat. Either way, it's good (shows my day has been fruitful), and it's re-stoking the interest in paeds again.

And through this all, our CNY celebrations continue with the meeting of friends and family over good food - Foochow, steamboat, etc. God, after all the musings and sighs and complaints, is good, and I'm rediscovering again (albeit slowly) how good He really is.