The homeless man

This morning I walked out the door of our condo and saw an old man using the lawn water faucet near the front of the building. He was an old man with long hair, sandals, a dark shirt and pants so soiled they seemed to shine in the sun. His skin was very dark,  similar to that of men and women who toiled for years in the pineapple fields.

From ‘the look‘ I assumed he was homeless. They have a rather distinct look.

My first inclination was to yell out and tell him to leave before I called the cops. Instead, I watched for a moment. He stood by the water faucet, not bothering to look around to see who might be watching him. He washed his hands in the water, then reached to a back pocket and pulled out a cloth, about hand towel size and held it under the running water.

He wiped his face and hands with the wet towel, leaned over and took a drink of water from the faucet, then he turned around, very slowly, still not looking back in my direction, and he walked away.

He found a cool spot and some momentary refreshment on a hot, dry day. I knew he’d be back.