The chatter of commuters, interspersed with random bouts of laughter.

Puddles on the beaten up tan floor, a sign of another rainy day in November.

Faces buried in books, phones, television shows.

Knitting needles clicking as they fashion yarn into something useful.

Children looking out the window in amazement as the city and suburbs fly by.

Moving, sleeping, creating, consuming, connecting.

When you stop and think about it, life is beautiful.

Even on a train full of commuters.


Note: This article was originally published on Medium onĀ  11/15/17 while this site was under construction.