There is plenty to talk about ...

An elderly black man, with an Ascot cap on his head and a walking stick on his right hand, was walking in the opposite direction from me on the bike path on a warm summer morning.  The picture he presented and the way he walked made me think he would have some stories to tell.  But, what could be my opening line to stop, and chat with, him?

When it comes to small talk with strangers, I go with my gut instincts.  Some blip on my "chatdar" and the rest do not.  Which is why, for the most part, I keep to myself.  But then, I, too, do not register a blip on many others' chatdars, I am sure.

We were now only a couple of feet away.  And then the distance between us will increase as we keep going our respective ways, with our paths perhaps never to cross again. I still didn't have an opening line.  I was experiencing the small-talk equivalent of a writer's block?

"I never expected to see that" he bellowed.

I was sure he was joking about my outfit and the way I look.  A scrawny Indian man, with chicken legs, and wearing shorts that look like mini-capris, and with a wide-brimmed hat that partially covers his grey-bearded face.  I imagine I am quite a sight on the bike path.

I stopped and looked at him.  I still did not have an conversation opener, nor did I have a response for his comment.  Quite some block in my head!

"A bird flying with a fish in its claws.   What a sight!"

Aha, so it was not about me, after all.  I wonder if by my dying days at least I will overcome this middle-schoolish self-conscious insecurity!

And then he pointed towards the sky.  "There, there."  He was excited like a middle school boy who had chanced on boobs for the first time.

I turned to look.  "Not there.  That is some buzzard" he corrected me.  Little did he know that I can't distinguish a buzzard from a sparrow ;)

"I know what you mean" I told him.  "Once I saw an osprey dropping down as if it was thrown from the sky ..."

" ... and it grabbed a fish from the waters, right?" the black man finished it for me.

"Yes, it was awesome.  One scoop, and it was back in flight again with a fish."

"It is amazing that we have such a beautiful nature preserve right in the middle of the city" he was ecstatic.  So was I.  For one, to share such stories.  For another, my chatdar signal was right about small talk with him.

"Back east where I come from, all we had were rats and rabbits" he laughed.

I wondered if the rats and rabbits alliteration came naturally to him.  Was he a walking poet?  I am always jealous of people who make wonders out of simple words.

"Oh yeah, where from?" I asked him.

"Cleveland.  We had nothing like this there.  Just rats and rabbits"

"And a whole lot of snow."  Hey, in a conversation we relate to the other.  The conversation would die if, for instance, I had asked him, "where is Cleveland?"

"Way more snow than I ever wanted" he chuckled.  "Way more snow" he added for emphasis.

He read my body language that I was ready to continue on.  That too, is a part of having a conversation.  "You  have a great day" he wished me.

"Have an awesome one" I told him as I walked back home.