The bus was rather full by the time I staked my claim on a poll; several other passengers yet to board behind me.
As I stood, waiting for the bus to resume its journey, outside, making their way up the sidewalk, I saw a young one seated in a carriage pushed by her guardian. Seconds after noticing the little one, I watched her eyes glance to her left and dip down towards the ground. Then, she smiled and as she looked back up towards the direction the carriage was headed in, she gave a solitary wave of her left hand; the fingers tilted to the right, then led by her pinkie in a slow unfolding fan-like gesture from right to left.
Intrigued, I found myself wondering if she had been recollecting something or was, perhaps, caught up in a daydream or engaged in some inner play; the way some young ones can sometimes be.
Then seconds later, I saw a pigeon. A pigeon who would have been in her line of sight when she had initially glanced down. And in that moment, while the child and guardian continued on, I had a download of certainty that the smile and wave that followed in the wake of the little girl’s glance, had been for this particular pigeon.
And that realization made me smile.