It’s the same driver, hard on the brake and acceleration. It’s the same short guy I stand in front of who spends the entire bus ride talking, and who shouts his thanks upon disembarking. The other faces on the bus are also The same, each one in a sullen state of half-awake. It’s the same route, same places, same direction. It’s the same every time, over and over.
The only thing that seems to change is the amount of sunlight outside. Or precipitation. Or temperature. Or the birds that are darting and swooping overhead. They accept the natural chaos of things. Why do we struggle with it?