I just returned from the park, capturing bits of nature illuminated by sunset light. The most captivating subjects were on the ground. Technically these are “weeds,” yet I see their beauty. The clover in this image sings. Texture, color, and expression.

When I stood up, a car had stopped. A man and his son walked toward me. He asked what I was doing. I love these inquiries! I know it’s a strange sight to see someone lying on the ground then moving to another light shaft and lying down again.

We talked about photography. About why I love golden light. I described the illumination in his son’s eyes (looking westward), which made his son smile and his eyes glow more.

He asked for my card (as if I were a professional photographer!). I had nothing in my pockets, just one block from home. Yet something connected us. He gave me his card. I paused and read the details.

Ernest works for Wisconsin Resource Center as a recovery support specialist. My face lit up and I exclaimed, “I so admire the work you do! I volunteer in prison teaching mindfulness.”

And at that moment, we hugged. Two strangers in a park, connected by curiosity and presence. Connected through prison. Just like the “weeds” are overlooked, seen as a nuisance, people in prison are discarded. Their stories are not heard. Yet the stories are compelling. I learn as much from them as they do from me.

Now I have a new friend, just moments ago a stranger. A heartfelt conversation and two hugs later, we plan to have coffee. A person who was formerly incarcerated and addicted, and who chose to stop me in a park, now inspires me deeply (after knowing him for 15 minutes).

This is the serendipity of life.