This being the beginning of the school year and I am sitting out on the front porch and I see kids waiting for the bus. I begin remembering the days when I walked a short mile to the bus stop and I too had to wait for the bus.
My favorite days to do this was very foggy days. These days were like an adventure. Fog would envelop you as you walked the road and when you reached your destination, otherwise the bus stop you have made it.
I always liked when there were other kids waiting there also, but one year I was the only one that had to wait and it was kind of lonely, so I would quietly pretend to talk to other kids to myself or maybe just walk around especially on cold and damp days like the many foggy days I endured for some reason the bus I rode to school seemed always to be somewhat late, and it seemed that when we made it to school we always just had a few minutes to get to our classrooms. Others always it seemed had a chance to roam the halls or play quiet games till class started, but thanks to my bus driver the only thing I and the others on that bus barely had time to buy lunch tickets or even take our coats off in the morning. That was the only bad memory I ever had of waiting for the school bus.
Sometimes I wish I could still be doing that little adventure. At times I still go for early morning walks in the fog and remember. One day if I ever move back to North and even if I am in my seventies and even my eighties I will enlist the DART bus to go to a local college where I plan to attend classes and wait at a designated bus stop to pick me up for I will be too old to drive safely and I will remember my younger days of waiting for the school bus.