Greenville,TX -- Still Above Freezing

** NOTE Although I can read my e-mails at this library, I am unable to send mail out. Will write as soon as I can. Thank You, Jesse

After one cool night that had me reaching for my extra shirt to wear as a hat while I burrowed into my thin sleeping bag, Texas went back to baking my Tilley hat during the day, and kicking off everything except sweat at night. The boarder of Oklahoma is getting closer. For now the roads have stopped bucking in constant hills, settling down to an easy canter that I can live with. For a few more reporters I have pulled out faded maps, telling stories that now seem a lifetime ago. Everyone wants to know miles and dates. It has been a long ways. It has been a long time.
There is a hard edge that comes with Texas. It keeps moisture in, quill and sun out. Once that light does come on over the porch you are one of the fold. Days may dust blow past in a long dull series before a voice comes to me , or I am afforded anyone to say more than hello to. My mind tries to find reason over the ruin of decent shoes...again. Five minutes into an old feed barn for shade and the parts of me that forgot what I am about, what this walk is about, remember. Bottles are filled with water by the hard earth worn hands of strangers. Warnings of hazards are given as if I am kin. Friends of the shop owner are called, and more reporters. With the cold water, I take it all inside to sip later. You can tell me that I am not homeless, that I have a cause, that this is not forever-- but this is the only now I live in. I walk in This now. The only real truth I know for sure is I have this moment, these kind people, the gathered goods on my back, and The Creator that is thankfully stronger than I'll ever live to be. Tomorrow? I don't have the luxury of that belief. I take in cold water with the decadent novelity of ice bumping against my nose, making me spill.
A young man that has been puttering with a tractor while listening carefully hands me a new micro flashlight that I don't need. He needs to give it according to his eyes so I clip it to Crow Dog, while watching the young man beam at his mother. Crops have been hit hard by the absent rain--no, their isn't any more crop this season. Nobody wants to take a gamble and plant in dust, so seed sacks sag on crouded pallets unsold, delivered here on jacked up fuel prices that are now are down to $2.00 a gal.
Homeless shouldn't be confused with hopeless. I have so much more than hope. If I am to live day by day on this journey, I cannot get caught up on a future that blows in the wind. I am blessed to be in the company of a people that pour me canteens of cold water with joy in their faces while we lean on their future in seed talking about this road called Texas, while I wipe the sun out of my eyes.