Monday, December 29, 2014

Give Us This Day

After our first real rain in six-months, the city is Windex clean, and the patch of ocean visible from the far corner of our property, glistens silver blue. Today I've done what I do every morning at dawn, picked up my camera and walked out into crisp air to capture the views from this hill.

Every morning it's different. Sometimes overcast with a sea and sky of gray; sometimes the whole scene is striped with pastels. At this early hour, the pin-prick lights of oil derricks, five-miles out, sparkle like Christmas trees on water. And the sky above them beams persimmon.

That fragment of ocean -- iridescent piece of puzzle -- I cannot resist. That's what does it, what pulls me into the yard: the sorbet colors, and the sunrise fleeting and translucent as a memory.

The magic moves fast. From the houses on the hills  - which at pre-dawn, when the sky is still dark, and the merest tinge of lapis barely a vibration -- porch lights glow like fireflies on the mountains. But as the sun lifts and light washes over, the porch lights disappear and windows become reflections. A ranch house with long rectangular windows gleams burnished copper. The windows of a three-story Mediterranean, burn nectarine.

First one, then two, and at its peak, when the sun rises above the canyon to bare its first molten streak, some picture windows blaze like exploding stars. This performance takes place every day between 5:30 and 7:00 am, and is, for me, a woman of eclectic beliefs, a kind of morning mass.

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This day, this day, so alive on my breath, let me enter it like the liquid of a still pond. Let me wade as if swimming in warm water. Let conflicts wash over me without connecting. Let them drift away in my reflecting sky.


  1. Anitra, I know of no one who can photograph and describe more eloquently than you, the daily California spectacle of night running out of land. You express incomparable beauty incomparably well. My thanks, and best wishes of the season!

    1. "spectacle of night running our of land"


      I so appreciate your presence here and your words which, (being the extraordinary poet and writer that you are, with your wonderful 3 blogs -- not the least of which is "Trainride of the Enigmas,") bear the flavor and depth of Zen Koans. They are always welcome and joyfully received.

      May you and Norma have a sparkling New Year,

      Sincerely, Anitra

  2. When I'm in a reflective mood, as I am tonight, your blogs often take me on a wondrous trip down a dreamlike lane that I know I've traveled before, but only faintly recognize. Glad I caught this. Great start to 2015.

    1. Paul,

      Hello. It's lovely to see you here. I appreciate your words and your dreamlike lane, and the way in just a couple of sentences, you have told and evocative story.

      I'm delighted this piece spoke to you.

      Sincerely, ~ Anitra

  3. Tonight I saw a movie you were in back in the seventies. You were beautiful and so good in that movie. I'm happy to see that so many years later you are still and still beautiful. By your well written words, I can see you have a lot of intelligence too. I hope you have many more years and that they are happy ones.

    1. Hello Olderguy, Thank you for your lovely message. I'm sorry I only discovered it today. This blog (as oppose to my other blog) does not inform me when a new message comes in, and as I am on a break from both blogs, and traveling, I missed its arrival.

      Your compliments are happily received, and your words, wishing me many more and happy years, is so thoughtful. I hope that they also apply to you Olderguy.

      Sending a bounty of good wishes your way,

      ~ Anitra