The bus was crowded. I kept squeezing towards the back and luckily ended up in front of a woman who had just popped out of the Fifth Element.
On top of her head was this mustard-knit reggae toque, barely containing her larger-than-life orange-coloured fro. Rather star-like with the sun streaming through it. Her large headphones appeared essential for keeping it all in place. All of that was intently bowed over her knitting. Warm wood needles slowly caught eye-popping red wool from a 70’s-style duffle bag. Bright yellow, of course. Her caramel knees acted as a perch, with some fun pink Converse as a base.
Maybe she sensed my…admiration? (Granted I also had been staring intently at her knitting, figuring out what stitch she was using.) Because when I sat down, she plucked an ear from a headphone and turned to talk to me. She asked about my arm warmers and whether I had made them. I confessed I hadn’t but that I had some in the works. She had just learned to knit as well. Fun.
When I went to leave, we turned to say bye to one another. I considered inviting her to come knit with me and my friends, but was pretty sure she was soon going to go on some celestial adventure instead.
Sometimes I regret not being bold enough to take a photo when I really want to. She was so pretty and funky and colourful that she silently begged to be captured. Yet instead of getting a photo, I got a few great moments. After our chat, I’m sure I could have asked for a picture. But I didn’t need one anymore. A wonderful memory emblazoned in my mind.