Thursday, July 28, 2016

Which way the wind blows

It was my last trip one early afternoon on the 72. We were westbound approaching the stop before Powerline. As we serviced the stop, a cyclist came out of nowhere on the sidewalk and hit the brakes. He motioned to me that he was boarding and proceeded to stow his bike on the rack.

"Wow! I can't believe I caught you! You'll never believe how far I came," he breathlessly exclaimed as he swiped his pass. He was clearly gassed from a strenuous ride, yet also exhilarated by the achievement of catching the bus.
"Whoa, catch your breath! I didn't see you back there, were you trying to catch the bus?" I asked, concerned for his immediate well-being and also tentatively apologetic if I had somehow missed him at a previous stop.
"The reason you didn't see me is because I was way up at 38th Street when you passed Andrews. I didn't think I had a chance to catch you, but there was a strong wind at my back and I was flying. When I got down to Oakland Park I could see you up ahead and knew I had a chance if the light turned red at Powerline. See, I told you you wouldn't believe it," he excitedly related his unlikely journey of some distance that was made possible by determination, timing of traffic lights, and a windy day blowing his way.
"I don't know what to say. It doesn't seem possible, but I have no reason not to believe you," was all I could say as I pondered his story.
"What's weird is this time of day the wind is usually blowing the other way," he continued, wondrous and alive thanks to this experience - and needing to share it with someone right away.

Maybe that's a good sign, when the wind changes direction and carries us farther than we could on our own.

1 comment:

  1. I like your blog's purpose and your upbeat attitude. Look forward to reading more.