This story is 15 seconds long.
I am headed home. The day is a great gray cloud of damp fog.
A pickup truck drives down the road towards me. I give the driver a little wave.
The return wave is usually casual, four fingers rising off the steering wheel.
But this pickup driver takes the wheel with his right hand, sticks his left arm out the window into the fog, opens his hand wide, and pumps his wrist, elbow, shoulder up and down in a full-limb wave.
He’s grinning big and warm under his old ball cap. His joy and his vigor are contagious, make you feel like you matter.
And I’m thinking that of all the things we can share with each other, this kind of exuberance is one of the finest.
Then he drives his way and I walk my way. But I’ll tell you, those 15 seconds shot some radiant light through the fog.