An Invitation and a Walk.

Today Phyllis and I walked gravel, and then dirt, and then gravel again- in a loop.

“Want to do one more?” she asked whenever we neared the polished Ranch dressing-white fence with the megabus suburban white cars behind it.

The parking lot that, if we allowed it, bookmarked the end of our time together under this perfect patch of October sky.

 

I forget every year how pretty the fall is. 

It surprises me each October at every first chill, every first pumpkin sighting in the neighborhood or the tiniest first speck of yellow in a leaf.

Phyllis asked me this easy question like we had known each other much longer than two whole weeks. The question rolled off her tongue like a neighbor who casually locked you in to a conversation you could trust, a conversation you actually cared about. Not about the weather or the trash guy getting sloppy on his pickups, but about a favorite book or artist. It was a warm invitation that said she appreciated me, or at least it seemed that way.

 

Here’s the thing-

When Phyllis asked me to go on a walk today,

I literally hop-skipped out of the house.

I couldn’t help it.

She was and is my first friend here.

In a new town, a completely new season.

 

When I walked up to her car after first arriving to the park today,

she spilled into conversation like water.

Clear, soft, smooth.

 

You know, I didn’t know how bad I needed this-

A friend.

A girl friend.

A 63-year-old hilarious coworker now girlfriend that begins stories and statements with “Honey” and talks about Chattanooga like you wouldn’t believe. She knows back stories upon back stories of all people, places, and things here.

 

“Yes, I can do one more loop,” I kept hearing myself say, each time a bit less shy.

And I pray the loops would keep coming.