Yesterday my friend Les rolled through town.
He'd said earlier in the week that he'd be heading west of the divide, with a friend. Said they'd be coming through Spokane. Said he'd like to finally meet me in person.
Now I've known Les for a long time. He's a Wheat farmer from the Hi Line country of North Central Montana and after I wrote a piece called Tremendously Wonderful (for story, see link http://www.highmountainranch.com/TalesFromtheRoad/tremendously.html ), he wrote to me saying he was slightly familiar with the territory we'd covered in that piece. Slightly familiar?
His wheat farm is less than three miles away from where my family originally homesteaded.
Now Les is also an gifted writer. I love his work. He conveys the choices rural gay folk must make-give up the clean air, the night skies that defy words, and all that silence for the city and a shot at a relationship? In fact, you can read some of his beautiful prose here: http://www.highmountainranch.com/witnesses/witnessesfromthecircle.html .
Well yesterday Les pulled one over on me. He showed up at the Broadway Flying J riding shotgun in Peterbilt driven by a very sweet guy named Patrick. We said our how do you do's and then hightailed it over to the Millwood Rocket Bakery-for coffee, cookies, and classy tall tales.
Some moments just leave a lasting warmth and a smile that won't end. Yesterday would be one of those times.
I'm hoping that for both men this will be the start of a tremendously wonderful journey. And if you happen to see a White Peterbilt running back and forth across the country, with two silent types, who might suddenly have a lot to say, well that would be these boys.
Yep, Spring has finally arrived. Whether it's on the big roads, under the big sky, or under the promise of some kind of new found big love.
I'd be willing to bet the big bucks on it
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