Enjoying Alone

The sun is about to set behind the cliff. Due west is to my right, the ocean in front of me, I'm in an odd curve of the bay where the sun doesn't disappear to sleep in the ocean. The sky has turned a gorgeous sky-blue-pink, as my mother used to call it. I still love it here at this location so much.

I don't want to leave, but I am thoroughly chilled now, even with the blanket wrapped around me. It’s odd how I would have been warm enough, comfortable enough, in the same temperature back east (inland Midwest). But, here, on the coast, it seems colder. Perhaps the moisture from the ocean adds to the sense of the coldness. Or maybe it is just because I am by myself, and feeling a little bit lonesome. I gather my belongings and head for the car. Still, there is time on the meter. I want to sit here in my car, warm up and watch people passing by.

Many couples saunter arm in arm. Young and old, fat and thin. Some walk their doggies on leash. A young woman about fifteen comes by with her white Standard Poodle proudly prancing at her side. Such a spirited animal! She plunks down on my previously occupied bench to watch the waves and invites her furry buddy to join her. I am envious as she leans against him to borrow his cuddly warmth. They sit there a while like lovers with their shadowed heads together in the last remnants of twilight.

I've heard that the rhythm of the ocean changes on every seventh wave. They say that every so often there is a wave that seems bigger, more spectacular, than those preceding it. I don't keep count. I am watching too many other things. But it must be Mother Nature’s way of announcing the fabled seventh wave, as the sea grabs my attention enough to draw me away from all the other distractions around me, as though it has said, "Hey! Pay attention here! Yes. Here! You can't miss this one glorious wave. At least, watch this one." And I marvel.

Suddenly many people pass by now obscuring my view. The movies have just let out. I'm cold and go home.

Hitching a Ride

Two young raccoons came into my yard in the light of day while my significant other and I were gardening.

Because of a neighbor's dog who had recently been bitten, I cold-heartedly scooted them away with my broom sweeping back and forth in front of me as they approached.

I'm sure they lost their direction. A neighbor leaves cat food outside for them. They can go there for snacks.

One ran away immediately, the other needed a little more encouragement.

They scampered off across my driveway, beneath my car and off to the neighbors yard across the way.

Later, we left in separate cars to attend a wake. I led the way and Katsumi followed. In a couple of blocks, unbeknownst to me, my Honey watched in astonishment as one of the raccoons dropped onto the road from beneath my car and scampered off into the strawberry fields.

About a mile later, he heard a thump and looked in his rear view mirror and he realized the second raccoon had dropped from under his car and ran off to the raspberry fields.

Fortunately, I live near the edge of town and Mother Nature was there to welcome them.

I am totally shocked and wondering how they could have held on to whatever part of our cars they were located.

I feel so guilty for shooing them away from my yard1 Maybe we could have just gone into the house.

But, we were so sure we saw them continue off into the neighbors yard after I shooed them with the broom.

I have the strong desire to go searching the fields hoping to see large swaths of missing fruit for reassurance that they are okay.
 

Note:
The neighbor who was leaving food out for local critters has now moved to Oregon.

Breakfast Treats

Cinnamon coffee cake muffins and mini donuts. That's what I bought before getting ready to drive to Los Angeles. There would be many family members and friends present. I was sure breakfast would be forgotten. And, it was! I forgot to bring the many boxes of muffins and mini donuts. Because they were sitting there waiting for me when I arrived home, that is why I threw it all in the garbage yesterday. Oh, I could have eaten them. I could have eaten them all, given enough time. I could have scarfed them down in a matter of days. But, after the plethora of sweets and treats laden upon the table during those Christmas days, and the nauseated, heartburn pay-back of my innards, I knew eating them would be the worst thing I could do. Still, being the junk food junkie, I knew I would be tempted to make myself sick again. Therefore the toss into the garbage. They sit there now beneath other garbage, there insidious vibrations mocking me.

At least I have the presence of mind to NOT go digging down to fetch the "treasures" in a rescue attempt. Even the Lindt chocolate truffles still in their wrappers are laid to rest. I will not tell myself it is a sin to waste them. I wish it would stop raining long enough for me to haul it all to the outside trash, as it sits here in the house smoldering in angry rejection that they will not be eaten. "Too bad" I say. My new sweets and carbohydrates are going to be the kind Mother Nature has prepared for me! Yes, yes. I know. They are still sweets and carbs. But, if I'm going to crave them, better they be fresh. Eh?

I remember the first blood orange I ever had. Charles and his wife had a dozen shipped to them from Florida to California at great expense. Someone they knew owned one of the first productive orchards. Marlys held one in her hand as if it were a precious baby chick. "Guess what I have." She seemed to shimmer with anticipation or was it just the odd winter light behind her from the window? Before I could hazard a guess, she turned to the counter, grabbed a large knife, and with one precise quick slash, it was open. Blood orange is a good name for it. Blood red, the juice leaked onto the counter as Marlys quickly lapped it up with her fingers.

She handed me half, cut in thin slices, keeping the rest for herself not even asking if I wanted any, or even if I could eat oranges. What if I were allergic? But, thankfully, I am not. It was the most delectable thing I'd had in a long time. Afterwards, I enviously eyed those other oranges sitting in the bowl wondering if I would be offered more. But, alas... no.

So today, when I bought spinach salad makings, irish cheese, a chicken breast, some apples, bananas and blackberries, I turned in surprise when I saw them. Blood oranges!

Guess what I did next!

For the Wonder of a Tree

She stands
With breezes teasing
Long leaves dripping after rain
Named Willow,
an old and venerable one
verdant in the summer sun
She survives

Spending winter naked
Withdrawing into herself
to her roots
She hibernated
And slept while cold death
Bit at her branches
Yet she lives

By some miracle
She awoke
At the appointed time
The mystery
Known only to her
and her mother, Nature

She revels in this season
Shading all who pass by
Bending to the winds
In a private dance
The two repeat together
She’s a feast for the eyes
Against the turquoise skies

Yet she weeps

by Elizabeth Munroz