T.S Blue

T.S. is a man with graying hair and blue eyes…a man with ordinary features that wouldn’t be conspicuous in a crowd…but,… he isn’t the type to normally be found in a crowd.

T.S. is a reclusive type,… the type that would much prefer to set naked on the porch of his mountain home in the sunshine and gaze across the valley to the mountains beyond, rather than participate in some affair where there was a crowd.

At first, one might think that T.S. is just of a shy nature, but actually he just prefers to keep a "low profile".

At different times…in different conversations, it has been hinted that he once was a "sniper" in the jungles of Vietnam, where he would stalk his prey for days at a time before moving in for "the kill". In other conversations, it was hinted that he once worked in something of a "Top Secret" nature for the government... and since has been "in hiding". Who knows what might lay in this man’s past, or in any man’s past for that matter.

Over the years that I have know him, T.S. never ceases to amaze me. Although he has changed over the years, becoming more mature, he still captures my attention.

Recently, I have listened to his descriptions of things like a drop of rain falling on grains of sand …a description so detailed, so vivid, that I could close my eyes and actually see it occur….or maybe he would tell about how a bolt of lightening splits the night and how the thunder echoes off the balds and knobs of the distant mountains.

Years ago, T.S. and I walked down a street of a small town. Several hours later, in response to some comment that I had made, he recounted to me the details of every person on the street, the details of the clothes they wore, their relative position on the street in relation to buildings and other people, details of all the buildings and businesses, the signs and advertisements in the windows and every other detail imaginable. His description was not like the "still" picture of a photographic memory, but liken to the changing scenes of a moving picture. Each part of the scene was depicted in such detail that it became "as if real" and "as if I had walked down the street for a second time."

In recent times, I have on countless occasions, seen T.S. sketch the silhouette of a barn along a deserted country road, only to wad it up and throw it into the first trash container that he came upon.

I have seen him produce a brush and paints from a small black box and proceed to lovingly splash the hues of a woodland flower on a piece of cardboard …this too would be tossed into the first refuge can available.

I have seen tears well-up into his eyes at the sight of a beautiful sunset or the dawn of a spring day.

I once saw him touch the cheek of a small girl and smile…only to turn away with tears beginning to flow down his face…later when asked about the tears, he explained "no one will ever get the chance again to see her beauty as I did at that moment…her small face, those crystal eyes, that youthful smile….that special connection that "that little girl" and I shared at that moment ….It’s all gone…over with…never to be again…gone forevermore.

In recent days, I have succeeded in getting T.S. to allow me to share one of his letters with others, which I now include:

Dear Friend,

I wish ...

I could tell you...

that I could explain...

all the emotions...that swirl inside me...

In looking out across the land this morning, I don't see a dreary, rainy day...but a "refreshing of life"....the Daffodils....in all their glory.... standing erect...with their heads bowed to shield their eyes from the spring rain...

The rows of Golden Forsythia...the glistening white blossoms of the Bradford Pear.....

In the sky... the low hung clouds...the flight of the morning birds....the beat of the thunderous drummers in the sky, preparing their cadence for the entrance of the Queen Mother... 

How can I...a man of half a century in age ...explain the tears in my eyes...the tears of joy...yet also tears of sorrow....

This fine lady...so beautiful...so grand....

And I.....a man...so void of words...but yet filled so with love... love for the "love of my life"...Mother Nature.............

I " want " to share with you......all that I can...

It's so painful for me...it's like being trapped in a cage...with no way out...

I keep hoping...as I have since I was a child...that some miracle would happen...that I would be given some special gift...some special talent...that would allow me to express ...to convey........to give ...."all" that these eyes see and feel.....all that this  mind and soul can contain.

T.S.Blue