Dedicated to Yesterday

From the low porch, I jumped off the steps and onto the concrete sidewalk where roots from trees exposed cracks and jagged slabs. Ahead of me, in a red windbreaker clothed tight around him, was my good friend – a young fellow raking leaves. 

The valley of Oregon in the winter sees deep fog or snow storms, short days and wet leaves fastened close to where they fell from. His arms dug the rake head against the thin grass and swept in long strokes to gather a thick line of the dark leaves. We met eyes while he stood up straight to shake away the full amount of leaves stuck in the rake's teeth – he did this often enough that it obtained a rhythm with the strokes and developed muscle memory from the afternoon.

It was sunset. The light of day had fallen west by southwest behind the coastal hills and illuminated an Easter colored sky spread out around the darkened silhouette of a building across the road. My good friend and I stood and spoke about our lives for some time. Dinner was soon and I planned to join with him there, so I headed away but stopped back when he asked about my book. 

"It is well," I embarked. "I plan to use it as fundraiser for my transition back to Hollywood. Otherwise, I plan to make it a movie before I release it as a book."

My honesty gave way to a crowded silence. My young fellow exclaimed the need of creators and our need as humans to learn and read, I respected him more at that moment. The conversation was done – I had taken away knowledge. With my farewell, I told him that I would make a new blog post because he inspired me, then came the token with excitement from this fellow's lips:    

"Quote me: 'Readers are leaders.'"

  

           Without him, I smiled and hopped along to the house where I hoped we would meet again. I so much hoped that it wasn't a concern of mine to see him, but apart of the plan. That night, I never saw him again, and I now hope the best that he come alive wherever he is. The sun set even more that night and gave way to starlight. The stars twinkled from their distance and look nice where they were.