His face turned to the rising sun. Eyes closed, he soaked in the sun's rays feeling the warmth on his skin. Each breath was savoured; every movement, a blessing. It was a gift. Every day was a gift.
He pulled the shirt off his back. Every part of his being reached towards the sky. His feet moved in the direction of the vast ascending orb. It was a glorious day. Blue skies promised life. The shirt dangled forgotten in his loose grasp. Sunshine bounced off his round belly, as he strode along the road way. The passing cars did little to shake the euphoria he felt in this moment. He breathed in the life that fairly vibrated around him. Destination was of no concern. Peace flowed through him and shot in waves off of his gently swaying form. It would be the same tomorrow.
As I made a wide arc around him, I could not help but smile. His energy was strong and had caught me. Many mornings, I watched as he strode down the street bare-chested. His sight always giving me a smile. I carried this bliss with me into the day. My smiles reverberated to those around me. I could see them and felt them cradle me. Blessed be to the Walking Man. His love of life carries sweet contagious feelers. I turn my face up to the sun, smile and thank the Earth for the day I have been offered again. That sunshine holds life and peace for the Walking Man, myself, and you as well.