Another walking man

I suppose because we live in quite a small town it happens that you see the same people, not people you know, but just people you see as you pass by. I wrote about the walking couple, a man and a woman who walk everywhere, we’ve seen them all over the town. They both wear hats, white in the summer and rain hats in the winter, they both have long hair, his grey, hers dark, and quite often they have little back packs. We have noticed them for years now, walking side by side, purposefully, in their way to somewhere… except once at about two in the morning I saw them sitting on a bench in our village in the warm moonlight. There is another walking man, very upright, who walks very quickly, often with a carrier bag in his hand, almost hurrying as if he is late for lunch or wants to get home before it rains. I actually noticed him working in a shop in town – he must walk there and back every day! There is another, more eccentric character, extremely tall, extremely thin, who drifts elegantly about, usually in a very long coat; there are local stories about him, that he is related to the Royal family, that he has a mysterious past…

A couple of months ago, earlyish one morning, I noticed someone walking out of the boatyard, striding along as if he was on his way somewhere. I wondered if maybe he had been camping in the quarry near the boatyard because he appeared to have a bed-roll on his rucksack and he was rolling up what looked like a sleeping bag. I know kids often camp out there, but he wasn’t a kid, maybe in his forties, so maybe a scout master, or a cadet officer, or someone’s dad who had been camping out with a group of children. I noticed him again walking out of the village one day; he still had all his things, back pack, bed-roll, sleeping bag untidily bundled up. He was walking along quite quickly as if he had somewhere to go, a carrier bag in his hand. I wondered then if he might have been camping in our woods. I have seen him many times since; always on our side of town, sometimes in our village, sometimes near the quarry again. He always looks clean, he has decent proper shoes or walking boots, he is always alone, always with his eyes fixed on the path in front of him.  I have never seen him talking to anyone, or standing still or hanging about, always walking. He is beginning to have a weather-beaten look, and I worry about him when it rains and wonder what will happen to him when it gets colder.