Most people think I am insane, but I absolutely love days in spring when the sky is overcast. Everything seems to be under this blue shadow and it makes everything--- the grass, the forsythias, the blossoming trees, brighter with this lovely blue palette. [ The closest example I can think of is Garden State because that whole movie is filmed in a way I think the colors in the world should look always. ]
So I was walking up to the library listening to music and the petals from the trees in full bloom are falling down like pink and purple spring snowflakes, and I pass Sweet Peas and notice that in just a few moments I was about to meet paths with the man who spends hours at the library and dresses like a disheveled 'Gorton's Fish Sticks' guy. I was slightly nervous about this, as his stature is intimidating and his general presence has always seemed a little out of place in our town. He is typically dubbed "the homeless guy" sometimes "the creepy homeless guy" even though he really is just a mystery... I don’t think anyone knows for sure anything about him. With all this nervousness I felt I pulled down my headphones, and as we crossed paths I looked at his face, which was old and weathered and wrinkling surrounding his small, dark eyes and behind his massive gray beard... he looked like a sage, and I could have mistook him for Walt Whitman. Walking by we looked at each other. I said "hello" and he said "hello" back in a weak voice, and we exchanged little smiles and moved on. I turned around and watched him limp away for a few seconds before turning around with hints of tears in my eyes, putting on my headphones, walking to the library and sitting on my favorite bench underneath the tree that rains magenta petals. He has consumed my thoughts all day because in that instant when he smiled at me, I wondered what his life has been like: what his dreams were as a child, what his favorite book was, if he'd ever fallen in love or broken hearts, whether he had been in the navy or written a song for the person he loved.
I will always wonder where his destination was, and always hope that it was a home