They walked for maybe ten more minutes before they reached a pond, and they slowed their pace to appreciate the view. In a shadow cast beneath overhanging pine, oak, and red-maple branches, the water reflected the trees and the sky. The sun glistened on the water, which had a few ducks traveling across it, including a small family with chicks tailing behind them. One parent had a shimmering emerald-green head, and the other was covered with varying shades of brown, except for a few blue feathers on herwings.
“These little mallards had their chicks recently,” Art said. “Eight in total, but looks like there are only seven remaining. I’m glad to see most of them have made it this far. Last year, these two had a flock that they lost to some kind of animal, Ifigure.”
“You keep up with thesebirds?”
Art laughed. “When I first came out here, I joined the bird-watching club. I wound up losing interest, but I can still name all the major Georgian birds. Now I just stalk this onefamily.”
“Speaking of family, curious to know if you ever had any interest in startingone?”
Especially when Wes had learned that Art was without his sister and brothers, that he was truly on his own, he was curious about what Art’s life was like without a family when Wes had a hard time imagining his own lifewithout.
“It just wasn’t in the cards,” Art said as he released an uneasy chuckle, one that seemed to confirm Wes’s worry that, indeed, Art felt alone without one. “But I have my friends here and that has to beenough.”
Again, his words stressed that it was not so much his desire as his circumstance that he had toaccept.
Before Wes could press further, he heard chatter, and as he turned, saw hikers heading around the pond, moving toward them. As they neared, Art greeted them and introduced them toWes.
They shared polite conversation before leaving Wes and Art on their own once again. Wes didn’t see any reason to press on about family when Art hadn’t volunteered much. So they walked on, sharing more mundane gossip, Wes explaining he was eager to try playing some tennis if Art was interested in joining him oneday.
They prattled on, Art occasionally pointing out a couple of birds Wes was unfamiliar with—dark-eyed juncos, nuthatches, and tufted titmice—before they came to the main gate that led back into HeathrowEstates.
Despite how much they’d conversed, Wes felt like they had hardly had any time to chat. They’d said so much, yet considering how much time there was to catch up on, there wasn’t a way to squeeze it all into just a couple ofhours.
“We’ll have to do this again,” Wes said. “This was a lovely walk. I enjoyed you sharing about the different types of birds, ones I would have probably hardly even noticed if it weren’t foryou.”
“Oh, I figured that might have been getting on yournerves.”
“Not at all! It was nice seeing how much you knew. I feel like I need to start googling more about birds in Georgia. I’ve lived here long enough that I should at least be familiar with some ofthem.”
“It passes the time. Like most thingshere.”
“Well, if you want to pass the time again together soon, I’d really enjoy that,” Wessaid.
“I’d enjoy ittoo.”
Wes was glad because, like with so many people he’d met in his life, with Art, there was a connection. Some people he just clicked with, felt like he knew so well even when only having spoken with them for a brief amount oftime.
But he wanted to talk to him more, get to know himbetter.
He seemed like he could be a really good friend. Or at least hehoped.
