Meet Mr. Bill Huckle (Day 4/365
He was coming up his driveway, shovel in hand when I saw him this morning from my spot in our backyard where I had gone to take pictures of the snow.
We talked a few minutes, and again I thought of how much I admire this elderly gentleman who lives next door to us. I’m not sure of his age, but I believe he’s in his mid to late 80s, sharp as a tack, and sweet and kind as can be desired.
He has a very long and wide driveway, and when I mentioned his shoveling it off this morning, with a twinkle in his eye, he let me know that was the second time he had shoveled out the snow from our recent storm. “I shoveled off today what fell yesterday afternoon. I had already cleared the driveway once.”
He’s amazing; gets around a little slowly, takes walks in the woods, occasionally flies to Sacramento where he sits on some kind of water board, travels to see his children from time to time, is very hard of hearing, is knowledgeable about lots of things, and a delightful conversationalist. (This morning, for instance, we talked about photography, and that he had given his Nikon film camera to his grandson who needed it in college.)
Once when we hadn’t lived here too long, he and I were talking over our fence (as we did this morning) when he began speaking of our flowers and how pretty they were. “I used to have a Shirley, too,” he said at one point “But she left me.” I was quiet for a minute, knowing his wife had died before we moved here.
“I’m sorry, Bill”