The Stamp Collector

    Almost every time I walk into Radina's for a morning coffee, this man is always sitting at the same table, nearly the same outfit every time. A khaki adventurist hat with a bleak mustard shirt, underneath a native american print woven vest with grey pants and black hiking boots. He always has the same walking stick,  glasses, and a short pony tail to accompany his white yet thick beard and mustache.
   This elder man always intrigues me, for he always seems both happy and passionate about life. Like the creeper I am, I have started to listen in on his conversations, whom he always has with someone new. So far I have been blessed to hear the passion and awe in his voice as he shares his stamp hobby with anyone who will listen, showing them catalogs and telling them specific stories of the stamps he is most proud of.
   He reminds me of America itself. Yes, I do mean the essence of this great nation. Being able to take your books and hobbies every morning wherever you go, and having the freedom and love of something to be able to talk about it with random strangers, somehow getting them excited about learning something entirely new. I am still waiting for the right time to approach this man, and I hope to strike up a conversation of my own. For some reason he just makes me incredibly happy whenever I see him. I don't know whether it's because he reminds me a the midwestern grandfather figure or because of his impeccable passion for the life he lives. Either way, I feel blessed to be able to see him so regularly, and can't wait for the chance to get to know him.