A bus window frames neighborhoods as passing scenes in someone else’s ordinary day.

Travelling through a place turns it into scenery. From a seat by the glass, a street is a composition: the man carrying shopping, the shuttered shop, the children on the wall, all of it arranged and then gone in four seconds. For everyone out there it is not a scene at all, it is Tuesday, with its own arguments and errands and weather. The window makes ordinary life look meaningful in a way your own street never does to you.

Ride something slow this week and look properly. Then remember that somebody passing your window sees your life the same flattering way.