Musings
an Online Journal of Sorts

By Alyce Wilson

Before making my return journey from Central Pennsylvania on Sunday, I took care of a few things. First, I took a picture of my dog, Una, along with her brother, Murray, and my mom's other dog, Sunnie.

The version without the flash turned out better, even if it's a little dark.

Then I bought some cleaning supplies and gave my truck, Red Arrow, a good cleaning.

The idea is to sell the truck to somebody in the area who might be interested in a pickup. We figure it's going to be an easier sell in Central Pennsylvania than it would be in Philly, where I live.

I couldn't believe how much grime had built up inside the cab over the years. The dash board is actually red again. It had been a sort of brick red for as long as I can think back.

Then, with about a half hour to spare, my parents drove me to where I would catch the Greyhound bus for my trip back to Philadelphia. I'd traveled on the bus before, but this was the first time I'd made this particular journey.

Even though the bus was late picking us up, we still made it to Harrisburg on time, where I was transferring to a Philadelphia bus. The driver told us to go to lane two. So I walked down there and took this picture, while waiting.

Of course, as it turned out, that was not the bus I ended up taking.

After waiting in front of the bus for about 10 to 15 minutes, most of my fellow passengers had drifted away to get in line for the New York bus. I asked a bus driver where I should be for Philadelphia, and he pointed inside to a huge mass of people, in a line that stretched all the way to the back of the station.

"You're supposed to wait in that mess," he told me.

So I heaved a sigh and made my way to the back of the line. The time of departure came and went, and we all still waited, each of us nervously eyeing the Philadelphia bus. After an interminable time, they announced that all passengers for King of Prussia should come forward. They were loaded on to the bus marked "Philadelphia." The rest of us Philly folk were eventually loaded onto a bus next to it, not marked "Philadelphia." Go figure.

The rest of the journey went smoothly. I took a few pictures out the window, enjoying the blurring effect.

As darkness fell, this blurred effect got more pronounced.

But then my battery died on me, and I spent the rest of the trip reading and watching the time.

When I got to the bus station in Philadelphia, The Gryphon was meeting me. I didn't see him in the lobby, so I waited for a good long time outside. Finally, I called his cell phone to find out where he was.

"I'm at the bus station," he said.

"You're kidding!" Sure enough, going back inside, I found him in the crowd. He'd been there since before the bus pulled in.

We ate at a sushi place I'd seen out the bus window that promised "the best food in town." When we walked up to it and saw the name, Serendipity, we simply had to eat there. The sushi was, in fact, excellent.

Then we took a cab to The Bridge and watched Intolerable Cruelty, starring George Clooney and Catherine Zeta-Jones. Another triumph by the Coen Brothers, I do believe.

In the cab back home, cuddling against The Gryphon, all I could think was how good it was to be back.

Copyright 2003 by Alyce Wilson

Musings Index

What do you think? Share your thoughts
at Alyce's message board (left button):