He tells no one his name. Throughout the land, he is known only as "The Hitchhiker." Wearing blue jeans and a T shirt, he travels the backroads of America, scattering wildflower seeds in vacant lots and abandoned fields. He tells people that his profession is "painter of the land." From packets he carries in his backpack, he tosses into the air seeds for sunflowers, red poppies, oxeye daisies, creek plum, golden tickseed, corn marigolds, and many more. Reds, blues, yellows, and violets sprout by the roadside, and it has been said that not even Solomon in all his regalia was robed like one of these.
To earn food, The Hitchhiker sits in town squares at night and recites poetry since he has a photographic memory. For a few dollar bills or a handful of coins, he recites Shakespeare's plays, The Canterbury Tales, Paradise Lost, A Tale of Two Cities, The Iliad, and just about anything people request. He loves telling stories, and people watch his bearded face, spellbound by tales of adventure and love.
He rises early in the morning, rolling up his sleeping bag and resuming his travels. It's a big country, a country in need of color and flowers and stories. May God bless The Hitchhiker.
~William Hammett
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