Like a bumblebee zipping from flower to flower, swirling in and about, forging my path amongst the greenery; I travel at lightspeed (ok…maybe not lightspeed, but pretty fast) from one destination to the next.
Back home, public transportation only consisted of school buses and vans, but here it manifests into an intricate, blooming flower whose roots reach into each corner of the city.
Bracing my feet a shoulder length apart, hands firmly gripping the metal pole attached to the ceiling of the moving machinery, my eyes raise hesitantly to focus on the blurry image whipping past the window. Look at this stuff, isn’t it neat? This is home now and I feel strangely complete.
Getting off on the wrong stop, and having to turn around and go back in the opposite direction. Learning the difference between going Northbound versus Southbound (I’m still sort of figuring that one out). Picking up my feet and letting the wheels of the Metrolink take me where it sees fit. I am adjusting to this new life.
My eyes are not accustomed to the dark tunnels and whirring spotlights, but I’ve always been one to explore. One leg in front of the other, heading to and fro. I’m finally figuring out how to successfully navigate through the intricate system of my new home.
Just like the vibrant disarray of plants that the bee pollinates, each sector of St. Louis has its own hue. One cannot survive without the other, no one piece alone is greater than two. My skin buzzes with anticipation and excitement as I feel the realization set in that the train with all of its passengers has breached through the surface of the WashU Bubble. I think I’m finally ready to stand on my own two feet.
Wandering free, I’m finally, a part of that world.