Poem

The birds are busy
singing in the dark
their insistent calling
leafing over
the lulling strum
of the freeway

How is it
that they live in trees
sleep on twigs
survive on worms
and sing so pretty?

Hike

Went for a four hour hike with my friend Kimberly in Ojai. Never been to Ojai before. Nice little typical southern California town. We hiked up into a big canyon. It was green, you could say lush in its way. I was following my footsteps. Concentrating on balancing, breathing, moving with a steady rhythm. A tiny paper white Poppy with lavender edges and three faint blue dots in a triangle centered on each petal stood alone beside the well-worn path lined with Sage bushes and Manzanitas celebrating itself. Its delicate colors vibrated against the sandy ochre rocks beneath our trudging feet that were being ground into smaller and smaller pieces, pebbles and finally dust.

We stopped beside a small stream for a rest in the shade. I sat on the trunk of a tree that was growing almost horizontally before stretching straight up again, making a bench with a back rest that swayed a little with my weight. Sometimes nature is so accommodating. I noticed a spider above me that was very still. It was hanging in its web, dangling with the breeze. I looked closer to see that it was dead. I imagined a mother spider who had produced hundreds of babies before giving in to her dying.

On our way back down the mountain, the sun was stronger and beat us down our descent. Another dead bug. This time a large beetle with legs up in the air. What happened to him? Was he simply unable to right himself? Imagine being that close to accidental suicide all your life. It reminded me of a moment a couple of weeks earlier when I was sitting on the porch of my father’s house one evening, with my sister. We heard the loud buzzing of a beetle flying around, banging into the screens while we were talking. A pretty common occurrence there, we didn’t mention it or wonder what it was. Finally, as she was laying on the bench, deep into a story about her daughter, I watched the big black bug come flying toward the lamp standing just east of my sisters head. He made a big slow circle around the lamp and then crashed into the metal lampshade and fell to the ground. My sister wasn’t aware of the tragedy from her head. Before going to bed I checked on him, surprised he was still lying on the floor. He was dead. You keep finding dead bugs, said Kimberly, but I disagree. They keep finding me.

Spring Thing

Spring is amazing this year here in Pasadena. We have had three weeks of nonstop gorgeous weather. I always think of spring in LA as frustratingly short as the cool, more dramatic winter weather gives way to a few warm days and then suddenly the relentless endless hot arrives and I wonder where did spring go? Not this year. I don't know if it's lasting longer or I am just appreciating it more but we've had cool breezy days with sunshine that dare me to wear sandals and warm evenings that make me excited to leave the house. Now that it stays light later we've been eating dinner outside, and since we eat early we get to watch the garden buzzing as it shifts from the late afternoon bright heat to a calm cool dusk. We munch on salad from the garden and watch the butterflies. The avocado tree is exploding. It is covered in little white blossoms and there are hundreds, maybe thousands of bees in its branches. I can't get over how busy it is in my backyard this year. I don't know if it's just a spring thing to feel like everything is new but I really don't think I noticed all the hubbub before.

The Japanese Maple that was hidden behind a dying lemon tree until we took down the old guy now stands like a centerpiece with these incredible delicate pink flowers that are like little treasures in its leaves. And the newly planted citrus are laden with their more obvious and fragrant blossoms. My little apple tree, also newly planted and who I pray for since this is not really the climate for apples, is trying hard to push out some buds. The insects are working overtime too. We see baby lady bugs all over and the bees and the flies and the mosquito catchers and spiders and all the worms in the garden so many worms all toiling away at their jobs, whatever they are. I don't pretend to know what they're doing and when the kids ask we say things like, "Oh they're eating and moving stuff around, just like we do." I just can't believe how lucky I am to live here, to have a big backyard where I can watch this all happen, to have three piles of compost and to grow my own lettuce.