It’s cloudy and cool outside. A hint of fall breaks through the air and cold weather will be coming soon. It’ll be time for campfires and cold hands. Winter is hard on the homeless.
The leaves crunch under our feet as we walk. Kenny wanders off to the edge of camp, staring up at the forest canopy. His chin points up with his eyes on the sky. “Looking for a place to put your tent?” I ask.
“See here.” He points up. “This is no good. These pine trees lose their limbs in the winter. If one of these branches falls, I’d be a goner.”
Kenny finally finds a spot. He pitches his red and grey tent on a soft patch of ground. We sit down in front of his new home. Last night he slept on a park bench in Gainesville. Today, he’s got a new tent and a fresh start.
His eyes wander off into the distance. He looks like a lost child but with unkept facial hair. His beard is scratchy and thick. Kenny’s got a gentle mannered presence that puts me at ease. He seems like a genuinely nice guy. His clothes are clean but worn down like a riverbed stone. Life keeps…
