One lonely sign stood to the left of the SR-24 onramp, "oaklandsingles.org.". As if the freeway experience of sitting in traffic, alone but surrounded by others, was not enough to call up the desires of uncoupled commuters.

I thought of the little girl I had just seen cracking herself up on the way to school. She was laughing so hard, that she fell down at the curb before crossing the street. It was not a hard fall, more like an intentional graceful tumble of a dancer. She picked herself up off the pavement and ran after her brother, her wispy black hair and melodious laughter trailing. A heavy-set woman with a tight pony tail and ruddy cheeks held a stop sign in the crosswalk. Her faced momentarily lost its severity, as the little girl and her candy pink backpack bounced on by.

Somewhere along the way, the child's sense of trust shifts to the other side of the balance -- the lack of trust that permeates adults, that has us driving by one another without so much as a look. I believe this to be true. Yet I smile at the commuters passing us in the right lane anyhow.