Only God Knows
Blackie! Fatty! Greenie! Stubby! Lizzy!
Yeah, all the lizards were scurrying about on the Leo trail this morning under the pale blue sky and soft gold sun that lit up the explosion of lush plant greens and wild flower colors. The mustard seed plants, blooming bright yellows are six feet tall and the swaths of orange/yellow daisies with the centered, earth brown eyes are singing all the way up as far as my eyes could see. The vibrant, salmon colored monkey flowers have bloomed on the sides mid-way up the trail, seemingly overnight because I hiked yesterday and didn’t see them. D! We’re here! Popping right out at ya!
Yes, you are my, glorious, glorious, glorious, friends! Towards my favorite precipice I saw a magnificent and masterful red-tailed hawk, fly no more than twenty feet over my head, hunting for the plentiful bunnies and ground squirrels. Poor fluffy bunnies. Soon the big rattlers will be out competing for the bunny booty and I will have to be very aware of every step as the heavy rains and warm days have made the trail overgrown with sagebrush, laurel sumac, buckwheat and purple sage where I can’t even see my feet walking through some parts.
Spring is here and singing!
After S and I did our grateful gazes over the vast Pacific and thanks to mother nature we came back to our little trailer abode for coffee and croissants on the old weathered sun deck. I watched a couple of ruby breasted humming birds hovering around one of our rose bushes, darting their needle beaks in and out of the pink, orange and red blooms. Hover. Hover. Hover; that’s what I’m doing as my Client, fancy hotel hops from Malibu to Santa Monica. Yeah, I drove him down from the desert last Thursday in his luxury car because he was meeting with an art consultant over the Frieze Art fair days to go to major art galleries for private showings to make a big purchase.
I accompanied him as usual. I dropped him at his upscale Malibu hotel. He told me to leave the car and take an Uber home. He said he was fine and might walk to Nobu for – a glass of pinot noir. Sounds like the opening of an AA book chapter called - He tried Controlled Drinking… Again -
Well, unfortunately that’s the brutal truth and I am always blinded by hopeful expectation. Now he’s back in the alkie fog, roaming around Santa Monica with his Amex Black Card. I texted him a few heeding words: Don’t drive, take an Uber. He texted me back a thumbs up. He will give me his hotel location soon, I’m sure. I will drive him back to the desert for another home detox. And so it goes and goes and goes until it won’t go anymore…basically until his body won’t go anymore. That seems to be the ultimate conclusion of his decisions. Or maybe he will outlive me and put flowers on my grave…yeah, it’s back to the ole’ hackneyed phrase, I don’t believe in but am forced to abide by:
Only God knows