I Talk to Strangers...

My sister-in-law and I recently took a trip to Florida together to celebrate our birthdays.  She commented several times on how I talk to everyone I meet.  I've been thinking about what a great thing that is.  I learn so much from the people I meet as I walk through life.  Here are a few of my "stranger" memories:

As we sat on the tarmac waiting to be de-iced on our first flight, we all had plenty of opportunity to visit and get to know each other.  We shared stories about our scary drive to the airport on slippery roads, and laughed (compassionately, of course) when the overhead bins started dripping on passengers (because carry-on bags were dragged through snow as we boarded the plane) in-flight.  The aisles were also running with water after everyone walked in through the snow.

We met Fred from West Virginia while looking at birds and alligators co-existing in a neighborhood lake.  He gave me his phone number so that I can get his advice on places to visit when we go there someday soon.

I met lots of birdwatchers at Fort de Soto State Park.  We helped each other identify the different species we saw.  By the way, cute old couple, I was right.  They were American Oyster Catchers.  Not Caspian Terns.

The ladies from Ohio were nervous as I led them toward the possibly-alligator-infested banks to show them the Anhingas and White Ibises and to listen to the freakish call of the Gallinules.

Carrying binoculars as you walk around makes other binocular-wearing-people feel very comfortable striking up a conversation with you -- in hushed tones, of course.  As a result, they happily alert you to the fact that there is a hawk perched a few feet away.  Then you get to chat together, comparing guide books to figure out what kind it is.  We settled on Cooper's Hawk, for those of you that want to know.

We probably made a couple feel super awkward as we walked through their private sunset picnic on the seawall, chatting with them amiably as though there was nothing weird about breaking into their silence.  I don't think they realized how many dead fish were laying all around them, washed in by the red tide.  It would have really killed the mood for me, if I were them.

I surprised the guy that we rented bikes from by knowing who the Grateful Dead were when I commented on the Dancing Bears on his baseball hat.  He thought he knew everything about us just because of the state on our driver's licenses.  Hopefully he appreciated our diversity as much as we appreciated his $25/day bike rental.

I commented to some people laughing together as they sat at an empty beach that they "looked like trouble."  They seemed to get my sense of humor because they smiled and laughed and made polite conversation as I walked by.  Though now that I think of it, they packed up and left about 5 minutes later... Too bad for them because they missed seeing these dolphins that we mistook for sharks.

Kindred spirits (strangers that I struck up whispered conversations with) hoping to catch a glimpse of something cool, met fortuitously on the less-traveled walkways of Six Mile Slough Preserve and alerted each other when there were cool things to hear and see.  Like this Green Heron.

Those poor people on our Everglades boat tour.  It was the last tour of the day so there were only 7 of us aboard.  Which meant no one could escape an annoying person on board.  Some of them might have thought that annoying person was me.  Myself?  I was just grateful that with less people on board, I could learn more from and about our guide.  He was raised in Ohio, then moved to northern Idaho to lead guided fishing excursions.  He has settled on Everglades cruises in the winter and Ohio fishing cruises in the summer.  He pointed out the manatees, but because we were besties, he confided in me that he doesn't actually find manatees very interesting.  I appreciated his honesty.  The people behind us just appreciated when they didn't have to listen to me anymore.

I'm not going to send any of my new friends a Christmas card or invitation to my son's upcoming wedding, or anything like that.  (OK... I may drop in to see Fred in West Virginia, cuz there might not be anything else to do there...)  But, each encounter sure did make the trip a bit more interesting.  I'm glad that my mom taught me not talk to "strangers," but also taught me how to be cordial (and some might say "annoying") with everyone I meet.