Thomas, 

He was not a beautiful man 

In fact his hair looked more like a woman's layered bob than a mans haircut and this is why is surprised me when he told me he owned a salon

"Well my wife is a hair stylist, I am not" 

His hair was a gold color and I don't trust old men with gold colored hair

You could tell his neck had seen the sun, there were pockets where the sun had collected and clamped down making it leathery and speckled 

His car (Uber) was clean and quiet 

Full of air and not many words 

Jana and I filled them a few times while propping the phone up so we could see where we were on the map because we were both sure he was about to kidnap us, instead there was 

Casual conversation about England and his want to move to Ireland where the police don't carry guns and the pubs are lush with kindness 

Earlier in the day we had met a kind man while waiting for our plane, with a pocket full of pictures of alligators and the ocean in front of his home. He had that eyes were still five years old, eager with life despite the age of his skin 

Michelle, a woman with sturdy legs and a lovely soul made our aquaintance had firmly planted herself next to us, sure this kind man was up to no good no good at all, and layered the air with stories of her kayaking adventures in the rivers of Florida, and how she'd been adopted at 6 months, and how she cared for her elderly parents 4-5 times a year 

This place reminds of me South Carolina with its sticky sap for air and the way it lays on you carefully collecting as sweat in all your pores 

Everything is green and sandy and the paint colors are colorful 

We walked to find food and ice cream and chicken and our legs took us everywhere even under our load of groceries 

& God looked down and saw how very cute we were and gave us the most beautiful sunset he put in some pink paint and orange paint and baby blue paint over in the corner