Tangerine Kindness

I fed crackers to ducks in the eddy of a big river. Away from shore, the current ran green and swift. A sea lion undulated here and there. Geese flew downriver. Driftwood floated by. Three boats formed a hog line at the mouth of a nearby smaller river to fish for salmon. One fisherman had his shirt off. An old woman walked her old dog and they never walked in a straight line.

A long-haired man emerged from the big rocks and massive cottonwood stumps. He was smoking and drinking an iced coffee and talking to himself aloud. He had the appearance of a homeless man. I tried to discern the meaning of his words but failed. Perhaps it was a failure of my imagination.

I found a tangerine in my sack lunch and extracted it. I went over to the man and offered him the tangerine. He accepted and thanked me. There was recognition in his face. I left the river and plotted my way to home because I had one. I turned around for a final look at the man. He was eating the tangerine and smoking and talking aloud, all three at once, a fascinating combination to observe. I dearly wanted to comprehend his words. I felt certain they presented an important story and I wanted to know it.

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