It was a rainy Sunday afternoon, and I would have blown right past that stop if the girl’s navy blue umbrella didn’t swing around in the wind just before I pulled up. I took notice and brought the bus to a slippery halt by the gutter. The girl was wearing a dreary gray jacket, blue corduroy pants, and black rubber boots, dripping in rainwater as she stepped onto the bus. I nodded at her in an almost automatic gesture as she met my eyes from underneath her hood, swiping her sopping metro card. In a small yet powerful shift, the dismal air of the day gave way to something greater. There was nothing dreary about her gaze as she beamed up at me with a smile that could have dried the rain right off of her. I let out a small chuckle, catching myself by surprise, and turned my eyes back towards the road.

The next few stops were empty, and I let my mind wander for a moment. My mornings are always full of people. Mostly, I don’t pay anyone too much attention so I can stay focused on getting people to work and wherever else. I don’t mind it. But nothing beats a rainy Sunday afternoon, quiet except for the rumbling of the bus as it rolls alongside my thoughts. It’s comforting.

I glanced back at my passengers, breathing in a respectful curiosity to see the girl again. A small, elderly woman a few seats behind me had a green grocery bag on her lap, her arms wrapped tightly around it. She was swinging her feet and watching the window beside her. Further back were two young boys, probably fourteen years old or so, looking at a cellphone and speaking in a low murmur. I would almost have missed the girl again with how well she blended with the bus’s blue interior. Strange, how vivid a presence can be, when not hidden in its surroundings. Had I looked straight ahead as she stepped onto the bus that day, I never would have seen that smile.

I drove on for another minute before I spotted a man holding the hand of a tiny figure by the playground. I wondered if the little one had been playing in the rain, and how much fun that must have been. As the pair came on, I smiled at each of them in turn and they smiled back. “Say hi to the bus driver, kiddo” said the man. “Hi mister bus driver.”

“Hello there! Find any deep puddles?”

“Oh yeah!!” The kid gushed. “Lots.”

The two walked on to take their seats as I rolled ahead, the kid now giggling and talking excitedly. A beep rang out, signaling a requested stop, and I glanced at the overhead mirror to see the girl in the gray jacket headed towards the back door. She met my eyes in the reflection, grinned and gave a small wave before hopping out of the bus, hitting the ground just like a drop of rain. I sighed contentedly, watching the rain paint the windshield for a moment, and then pressed onwards. It’s nice to notice people.