Evolving views.

Daily travel can act like time capture filming. Or for those of us with a few more years in our dish flicker books.

Each day seeing the same thing over and over, yet not the same thing as there are slight changes that only gradually impinge on my conscious mind.

Over the years I have watched houses be demolished, oh and a Church clad for at least six years in a hopeful layer of scaffolding finally give way to a pile of rubble. At the other end I have watched housing estates grow, cricket clubs open and face their final innings.

At the moment it is a housing estate  growing up from the foundations on a green space past which I walk on the way to the bus stop.  Some mornings and evenings I forget to look that way, focused on the journey and not the view, so when next I take a real look the book has flicked the film has moved on and the process appears quicker than it really is.    

As if time wasn't passing fast enough! 

Puddle fun

On the way home, a day of much rain so I know the Big Puddle will be there, I get off the bus to mizzle which gets stronger as I leave the bus station and has worked its way up to deluge by the time I get to the traffic lights.

I am not in a great mood and feeling a bit mopier getting wet as I cross the road however, the rain eases and I look towards the BP.

Standing in the middle of it is a child, a small boy in waterproofs and wellies, a man standing on dry pavement but in arms reach, hand on the child's head. 

Countless are the times I have seen adults trying to get children to come away from a puddle.  Seen them shout, drag and complain, whilst the child can not understand, after all puddles and welliington boots are made for each other.  I expected to see the usual scenario.  I was wrong.

At that moment, a lady passed the pair, and a step beyond, "OK" , said the man lifted his hand from the boy's head and the boy jumped and splashed gleefully in that puddle.  As another person approached within splashing range, the hand gently descended once more to the head and the waterworks paused only to resume once the cost was clear.

It put a smile on my face as big as the Big Puddle, it lightened my step and the rain stopped and the sun peeked out (ok that last bit might have happened anyway and been a weather thing but the timing...) it was a moment of shared joy, the little boy, the man, me and I suspect the puddle was rather liking the love and attention.

A sad journeys end

A day that started out sunny and hot, as evidenced by the open windows now letting in rain I had surprise company on my journey home.

As I read my book, my eye was caught by movement to the left.  A more focused look and I see small black legs moving on my wrist.  I restrained the automatic jerk reaction, no knowing where the what ever it is will end up if I do that.  I move my book into my right hand to get a better view. 

Oh! a sigh of relief, just a bee, perhaps also blown in like the rain I am beginning to notice.  It walks up the length of my hand and back again.  A little worried it will vanish up my sleeve I put my book away and walk the bee from hand to hand.  Occasionally she flutter her wings not an attempt to fly, just a flutter.

A few mins of happily walking the bee, its step to light to be felt, delighted with such close observance with its face I become more aware of the  rain outside getting both heavier and more inside (open window).  I dare not try and push the window shut with bee in hand, that way squashed bee and stung me is a likely out come.  Anyway the bee is getting nowhere so I walk it off my hand onto the seat and get up to deal with the question of the window.

Sitting down (no I did not sit on the bee) I notice the bee has made her way up the back of the seat onto the plastic bit, a flutter to steady is not successful, she looses her grip and disappears out of sight. 

I happily assume flight occurred rather than a fall and get back to my book.

However, it was with some sorrow as I moved to the front of the bus to get of as a few other passengers before me had, that I noticed by the door a squashed bee.  I guess her wings were either wet or worn out or both, but that fall had been just that and either rolling or crawling about the floor an unlucky step and the bus journey was over. 

I know bees have a short life and can console myself with such facts, still it was sad and oddly there was the same element of wonder with Bee as I had with the dear trio many a post ago.  

Bee-ing distracted.

Now if you have read my early posts, very early that is (feel welcome to go look if you have not!) you will know my normal route to work routine.  This summer I have a new distraction before I even get out of the gate.  And I add to my fur feathers and figments of imagination.... insects.

Bees to be exact.  A garden ornament in the form of a tortoise that I filled with hair clippings hoping it might make an over wintering spot for lady birds or some other insect.

However, this spring it appears to have caught the eye of a bumble bee queen as a prospective home. The first time or two a bee appeared to come from that general direction I thought I was mistaken.  The I spotted one emerging, then more and more.

I added a stone slope to make it easier for a bee waiting to get in whilst another got out.  That was getting some use, I would see two or occasional three bees at a time.  As the weather warmed the temperature rising and some of the sheltering plants dying back that count rose to nine as they worked to cool their home down.

The nest (apparently the correct term with bumble bees) must be getting too small as now they are working hard pulling hair out from the various openings on the tortoise shell, swirling the hair and adding bits of this and that scouting out the area around the nest.  I have popped a terracotta flower pot next to some of the construction and wonder if they will choose to expand into that.

So each morning as I step out of the door, as I should be heading for the bus I just can't resist taking a look at the bees to see how they are doing. A moment, a moment more or two or three.  One morning it will be just that bit too long and I will miss the bus.

The internet notes on the bumble bee tells me that come the Autumn the tortoise will be vacated and the chance of it being used in that way again is very slim.  So I shall just have to make the most of it now.

Of course there is the chance that having been the home of a queen the accommodation may appeal to other clientèle in the future..should I put up a sign, Queen Bee stayed here..after all I believe in the power of signs.

    

A new bag!

had a sense of the "family feeling" the regular bus commuters have this morning.

I was passing the time on bus two with my eyes closed, all of a doze but not asleep.  The bus pulls up to a stop, a clatter of small feet and a gleeful voice announced "I got a NEW bag!"

Little pink commuter had a new back pack, almost as big as her and wanted to share her delight with all her bus friends.

Those who joined the bus later and had missed the initial announcement were gleefully appraised of the new addition as she exited so all could share her joy.

Peppa Pig giving way to Minnie Mouse in the bag department, still I hope Bunny is in there perhaps with Chick still enjoying their daily journey.

Three now she will soon not be making the journey to nursery, she may have an alternate journey once school rolls around.  My journey will be a bit gloomier if she stops being part of it. 

Ohps!

Not sure if I have made this clear before but the number of the bus I arrive on and the number of the bus I leave on from my place of work are the same, just they have different final destinations.

They leave from opposite corners of the bright white bus station.

People sometimes get confused, wait at the wrong stop for the direction they want to travel, spot their error when they see the destination written on the front of the bus and troop off to the other end of the bus station.

So when I am waiting for the bus home and someone asks me is this the stop for the bus number I ask them for the end destination to make sure the answer I give is correct in spirit and not just the basic fact.

Except the other day I was a bit tired I guess and not thinking quite so clearly and when asked the question by an elderly lady , does the ? stop here I did not ask the clarifying question and absent-mindedly just said yes.  

Bus arrives I get on and the lady sits next to me and off we go...two stops before the "littering incident" stop she says "excuse me, is this bus going to?"  Oh no it is not! We are going in the opposite direction!

I advise she stays on two more stops were the return stop is directly across the road from the one she will be getting off, and it has seats.  I tell her when and point to the correct stop and ruefully accept her thanks feeling guilty for not checking and a stern reminder to myself not to make that ohps again. 

checking ticket

it has been a long time since a ticket inspector was on the bus with me.  As he got on and started asking to see tickets (which were duly being shown, paper and concession bus passes) and it occurred to me now how is he going to check mine?

The types of ticket I mentioned in a much earlier post and I still have the card version that has to be passed over a reader.  So as my turn approached I fished my card out of its pocket in my bag and awaited the answer with interest.

And the answer is..a hand held scanner in a vivid shade of blue. Ticket validated and the learn something new every day moment was over.