10.26.20 // Ken's place

I've been saying "life is short" on Instagram a lot lately.
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And by god, the universe really heard me and has been proving that to me.
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For example, this is Ken's place.
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Ken would have been 35 years old. Only a handful of years older than me.
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I don't know Ken, or I should say, I don’t know Kenneth Hugh Anderson.
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But, I could feel him here.
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This was his place. I knew this because it was marked by a beautiful bench, rocks hand-painted by friends, and a breeze that was warm with electricity.
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There was also a notebook at Ken’s spot. It was tucked delicately into a crevasse of the bench in a ziplock bag. I didn’t have the heart to open it and read the kind words written to Ken. It felt like an evasion of privacy, a peek into a world of emotions and love that I hadn't earned yet.

However, as I sat at Ken's spot, I wondered if I had met Ken, would we have been friends?
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I wondered what he was like.
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Did he stop and notice the small details? Did he come here to watch the ducks swim by in the river and the clouds roll in from the ocean and over the granite? Did he take his dates here? Did he fall in love here? Did he merely pour his love back into the world from this high vantage point, letting his love fill the air with electricity for years to come?
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Ken, I never knew you but I felt you in this place and I'm grateful for your beautiful soul.
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Maybe one day after visiting your spot a few more times, I'll open that notebook and share my gratitude for you like the countless others who have done the same.