Many years ago I would welcome each fourth of July with a new journal and start to write about my cruddy life, ridden with teen angst and unrequited love. Unlike Thoreau, who actually did something amazing with himself, I pouted away in a new journal, changing absolutely nothing about my life. This year I welcomed the fourth in a manner which I had never quite imagined. I crashed a neighborhood 4th of July celebration. I didn’t for the life of me imagine that I would be listening to a neighborhood orchestra beneath a canopy of oak trees with Spanish moss swaying refreshingly in the breeze. Nor, did I imagine that I would meet an artist, Beverlee Ahlin, and tour her home and studio, or a Dutchman who lived through the Nazi occupation of Holland. In all of my life I don’t think I have seen art as beautiful or met a woman so warm and approachable.
This was all a result of a chance encounter at graduation. Embrace your chance encounters.