looking, seeing, noticing

1.

the full sized bottles of shampoo and conditioner, prohibited, which i had packed carelessly in my carry on luggage only a couple of hours earlier set off the x ray machine; the customs agent who opened my case to remove my clothing did so in such a way that my undergarments were not exposed to anyone else. then the flight attendant who saw my face when i boarded and brought me a glass of champagne though i had an economy seat. then the man in the seat next to me who without a word took my hand as we accelerated down the runway, and held it firmly until the chime sounded to say that we were now at our cruising altitude, who when i opened my eyes and looked at him when it sounded nodded once and released my hand gently back into my lap. then watching the map as we flew in from the north, all the familiar names on the map as though i were a child again in the red subaru moving south through boreal forest and then grasslands and then the lights of the city as we made our final approach.

2.

the cloudbank rolled back — the light reached to touch and count every bird, every stone, every fold of the hills. was anything ever so thoroughly loved? three girls on the train stopped their talking at once and sighed in unison like the heralds of a miracle. then a silence, then laughter, delighting in their own delight.

3.

the time when i was helping a friend of a friend study for the citizenship test and was halfway through an explanation of parliamentary democracy when i noticed the friend studying me with a steady and curious gaze and a slight smile. i blushed to the roots of my hair when i realised.

4.

not thinking about the last time i had made this same trip, instead letting the gold of the fields fill my eyes as the land unfurled on either side of me. suddenly looking up and seeing the starlings, perhaps the same indifferent ones, moving against the blue of the sky as though they were being exhaled into it.