Morning Commute

6:51 The sun is beginning to creep up the eastern horizon, the layer of red and yellow and pale blue sky a pastel contrast to the rich, dark blue of the western sky. Five minutes ago the houses and the trees were all solid black silhouettes. Now the features and colours are starting to stand out.

6:53 It is a cold, crisp day, but pleasant none the less. The sharp stinging of wind borne snow was absent as I waited by the bus stop. And the bus arrived on time, unlike yesterday.

6:55 We just passed a Country Style doughnut shop. It reminded me of that painting, Night Hawks, by Edward Hopper. You know the one -- three patrons (one by himself, a man and woman together) sitting at the counter of a cafe while the cook reaches for something under the counter. The doughnut shop was not as dark, not as frightening. The man who read a newspaper while he drank his coffee would not have felt out of place in the painting.

6:57 Someone coughs at the front of the bus. Another person answers further back. The eastern sky is brighter now. The red tinge is gone and a light orange-yellow is smeared against a pale blue blanket. The sun is still low enough that the cell phone tower is silhouetted, looking for all the world like a small, functional Eiffel Tower.

6:59 Richmond Hill is a melange of churches and signs in Farsi. At last someone sits in the seat next to mine, so I close my book and rest my eyes.