Sometimes people you meet only once have a profound effect on you. Perhaps it’s because you don’t have enough time to find out about their nuances, idiosyncrasies or other challenges. Sometimes those moments are better left that way, without complication, with one day planted in perfection in your mind.

There was a boy in college who took a friend and me on a canoe ride. It was perfect weather and my friend and I were even dressed up a little in flowy skirts. (One fisherman laughed and asked us if we were going to prom, but we weren’t THAT dressed up). The boy educated us about a few flowers and animals. He obliged to our whims, allowing us to “just float” for awhile, as we took pictures of reflections, Lily pads and other flora and fauna. We stopped to put our feet in the water in this little knee-deep inlet where we thought we spotting mink swimming and took more pictures.

I have never seen this boy since then and probably never will. But this happens to be one of the most poignant memories I have of enjoying pristine nature with some of the best company I’ve ever had.

There was also the man at the Kilgore Oil Museum. This man was the most friendly docent I have ever met. He had shimmering eyes and smiled warmly at me, a little non-descript 10-year-old visitor. After talking with us a little bit, he bent down and handed me a hand-carved (by him) reindeer with little eyes and a red pom-pom nose. To this day, I bring out the little reindeer to put alongside the nativity scene and remember that man who became the highlight of my experience in Texas.