Between tan and beige seats, a man carrying a sword attached to his back turns, grazing the chair beside him. The abnormally large casing finally catches against the railing of the cab, and after a loud, metallic thud, he locks eyes with his partner, carrying luggage full of headpieces, more swords, and anime memorabilia. He smiles at her— self-aware of the whimsical perils associated with katana swords on public transport. Down the rows of Marta, a husband, wife, and daughter all sit together in Tennessee-checkered orange, peering over. They glance at the enthusiast couple— gobsmacked— while their daughter drops an orange-checkered flag.

It’s this time of year where I find much comfort in the city, and within the train’s cabin, a multitude of worlds collide. The same downtown that hosts this year’s Dragoncon attendees also hosts Tennessee fans traveling from out of state, which also hosts crowds of concert-goers, students, workers, local residents, etc. And while many are used to this intersection of life, it was my first time riding to Peachtree Station for Dragoncon that I experienced it firsthand. It was my first time on Marta, and I felt comforted watching everyone’s passions come to life.

Riding along Marta brings us closer in proximity, and seeing people from different walks of life creates space to sit back and wonder, “What brought them to this train today, and where may they be headed?” Everybody has a passion, and everybody rides Marta with a purpose.

Since Dragoncon, I ride Marta with a new sense of curiosity. Maybe people aren’t in costumes or covered in orange from head to toe, but that same wonder still exists. Everybody rides for a reason, and I find a fond humanity in that.