Life is creatively beautiful. As I ride south on Highway 1, I am overwhelmed with simple beauty. My companions on the bus today are few, but extraordinary. Since I am the only female, I have chosen to lie down on my seat, let the sun shine touch my face as I soak up the conversations of my fellow passengers. Two Middle Eastern men sit in front of me and have kept a steady conversation, allowing only brief interruptions of awe to silence them as they point out the window. Two Spanish men sit behind me and were visited from the young traveler in the back of the bus. He was barefoot, carried with him his art and a genuine spirit. He engaged himself in conversation with the two men behind me and they spoke for awhile about society, art and books. The young traveler spoke of the freedom of sleeping in the streets and traveling with nothing but the clothes he had on. As their conversation ended, the young man returned to the back of the bus, the other man laid down and the other man directly behind me began to sing beautifully in Spanish. Although I didn't know what he was singing about, I knew he was singing about something wonderful and his voice matched the beauty of the green mountains beside us. His singing filled me with peace as I imagined myself exploring the green mountains beside me.
