I was not the only one who discovered this rare spot of solitude along the crowded path – perfect for meditation, and clearly letter writing. As I bent down to pick up the folded page, I felt just a little bit guilty – these words were not meant for me, I was sure.  But just like watching a car chase on the evening news, I couldn’t stop myself from being an observer.

Declarations, tenderness, regret, and finally a question.  The feelings  were palpable – and my little bit of guilt morphed into a whole lot of envy.   What a gift to be on the receiving end of those messages, but I was not the intended recipient.  I put the letter in the pocket of my cargo shorts and set out to find him.