The same day after hanging out in Fitzroy, I felt like there was still some salt that needed shaking from my soul. I took a drive to a nearby park and decided to walk things off. The place was like a little piece of heaven when it was that close to sunset. There was a light sprinkle of gold on everything … the quiet was a necessary balm on the cracks that have appeared in the few months past. Despite all joy I soaked in walking by the river, or standing on the long creaky bridge, I did not see a picture that inspired me.
As I left the park in my little blue car, I drove almost too quickly past a man in a white suit jacket standing by the side of the road where cars were not meant to stop. Blink, and I would have missed him. Two seconds later, I made an impromptu decision, reversed and parked illegally in front of his car.
“Sorry to crash your party” I told him.
“I always stop here when I drive home from visiting my parents” He smiled graciously with his hands in his pocket.
We stood together for a long moment just reflecting on our chosen home.
So this is a picture of a beautiful shared moment with a man from Bosnia. We talked about our countries, about mankind’s destiny and how much has been forgotten. I told him that I’m glad I met him here – because it is obvious he is one that remembers. And he had reminded me – that we only have this moment. We shared the last rays of sunlight from the day as the warmth bounced gently off our faces – two immigrants, two strangers and an inexplicable bond. He shook my hand at the end, this person I will never see again. “Enjoy the rest of the day” he almost bowed. Perhaps it was the sacredness of it all, or perhaps he was just a polite chap like that. The curtains slowly fell … and I drove home feeling lighter than I had felt in a while.