A Beautiful Day

It was a glorious warm day. The brilliant sun was the sort that dulled the landscape, muting the normally bright colors into pastels. We sat at the park, enjoying the warmth and the light breeze, reading The Power of One.

I noticed him as soon as we pulled in. Walking slowly, his deliberate, tentative steps were those of a man that might be considerably older than he looked.  His pants were made for a larger man but the belt cinched them enough that they stayed in place, creating an abundance of fabric folds. The flannel shirt was worn but neat. He walked to his tidy car, late model, affordable from the get go, that was well taken care of. He gingerly climbed into his car and sat behind the wheel, staring at the sporting fields being blasted with water by the high pressure sprinkler system.

At one point, the breeze picked up at just the right time, coinciding with the sprinkler gushing in our direction. Both of our cars were sprayed with a light mist. In response, haltingly he moves from his seat, goes to the back of the car, opens the trunk, pulls out a soft rag and proceeds to clean all his windows. One by one, he does each thoroughly, as if it mattered. The rag goes back into the trunk and my friend returns to his prime front row seat to a lovely day.

I hope he has someone at home, even a dog or a cat, with which to share his quiet observations. I hope he is, if not happy, at least content. 

Content is good.