Red Room Where the Writers Are

A leaf fell from the tree and I heard it fall to the ground with a rustle or was it a crackle, anyway it  sounded like a sheet of paper being crushed, so it was a blend of rustling and crackling. I had never heard a leaf fall until today. Of course, I've seen them fall many times. I am one of those people who looks out for falling leaves. I get a kick out of it, will even interrupt conversations over the event, stop dead in my tracks to witness a falling leaf. Today I did not see the leaf fall but just as I looked up from my book I heard it reach its final destination. I stopped and noted it and then closed my eyes to the sun that was hot on my face as I sat outside to bathe in it for a while fully aware that days like these are numbered. I was forced to sit in the front of the house facing south, as the back patio, the usual summer haunt and sun trap, is in total shade, now that Autumn is here.

I met an older man a few years ago, I have not seen him since. We shared a pleasant conversation,  oh, maybe for a half hour or so, and we talked about books and music and for some strange reason that I never really understood, Everyman by Philip Roth. When he stood up I noticed the man had a limp. I remember feeling a little shocked because he seemed so whole and dignified and intense and his limp changed his aura for a moment, my initial impression swayed. I felt guilty about that, about how I thought of his disability as a negative thing. I felt worse when he said to me,

- I get the feeling you are a sentient being  

I did not know what to say because I had no idea what sentient meant.  I think I said,

- oh, really, do you?

- yes, he said, you like the earth, don't you?

I agreed that I looked for many things in the earth and nature.  I should have asked him if he liked to watch falling leaves or how incredible it is that the sea can appear to look like deep blue velvet one minute and in a mere blink of an eye, become a shimmering slate blue stretch of veined silk. But I never said any such thing. I merely got up  to go and we shook hands  and I went on my way. When I got home I looked up the word, sentient in the dictionary. The definition was pleasant to read. It described the man with the limp to a t.