Nothing like this in Jacksonville Florida. No mountainous background and without them, the landscape struggles for some kind of ambiance.
What I miss about California is the contrast of shapes and lines, the breeze that actually cools, the horizon. Back here in the land I loved, everything has a bedraggled look. The sun is relentless, in the nineties everyday. Even the people look wet and dragged down. The first time I saw one of my squirrels, I was alarmed at how skinny it was, and ashamed of neglecting it, though it lives outside in the big tree and gets my sunflower seeds as a treat. Still, compared to the muscular brute of a squirrel I saw in the parking lot of the LAX Plaza Hotel, mine are orphans, undernourished weaklings.
It's been a week since leaving L.A. Mary Nell & Diane ask me if I've adjusted, with the assumption this will occur, given adequate time, and behind that, another assumption about the permanence of my home here in Florida. I ran into a friend I'd not seen for years at Panera's this morning and when "California" got mentioned, the same wistful awe came over her, and stories of her life there, working as a traveling nurse in Irvine, living in Marina del Rey. By the end of the conversation, she'd jumped at the chance to return and will likely go to L.A. with me for my second residency.
Something about those distant mountains, the breeze, the people.
Sunday, July 02, 2006
at 11:23 AM