Image by cjohnson7 via FlickrMost afternoons as I’m driving home from work, I see a young man, maybe college age or a little bit older, walking down the sidewalk, carrying a guitar. The first day I saw him, I had to do a double take, because he wasn’t carrying his guitar over his back like I’ve seen most people do. He had it slung across his chest and was playing it as he walked. As I approached, I caught a few chords, since my windows were down that day.
I saw him again a few days later and looked a bit closer. His hair was shaggy and he wore beat up jeans, and his guitar looked none-too-new either. He was just strolling and playing, maybe singing. It was hot, but he wasn’t concerned about the weather, or that the clouds were starting to gather for a late evening storm. There was no way to tell how far he’d walked or how far he had left to go, but he seemed mellow, and fine with walking however much longer it took to get where he was going.
I still see him regularly, walking and strumming, sometimes with a friend, but most of the time alone and content about being alone, and fine with the fact that he’s walking, just walking, not thinking about where he was or where he’s going to be.
And I think that’s pretty darn cool.
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