Through the Water
I breathed a quiet sigh of relief this morning. The day dawned grey and cool with a hint of drizzle on the air. We’ve had a string of particularly hot days where our air conditioning has been running day and night. We’ve all resembled wilting flowers more than anything else and the walls of our lovely house have seemed about to close in on us from all directions at times. The cooler temperatures revived us; I all but danced out of the house with my daughter to take our dog for his morning inspection of the neighbourhood. He too strode purposefully out of the front door, ears at high alert, as he scanned the walkway for any new threats or proposed invasions of his territory. We narrowly avoided a confrontational conversation with an elegant Siberian Husky across the road who reminded Duke of an old foe from a previous neighbourhood. Luckily his attention was swiftly captured by some fresh piece of news from a telegram, left in the soil by a gossipy canine neighbour, and we continued our perambulations without further distress.
I’m often struck by some new aspect of our neighbourhood when we’re out on these walks, especially in these days of quiet and mostly deserted streets. Today as we strolled along, we meandered into the grounds of the Culver City City Hall. Built in 1995, it incorporates elements from the original building which dates from 1928. Large and well constructed, it has a generous presence which doesn’t overly dominate the space it inhabits. The gardens have become one of my favourite spots to linger in- alone or with a family member or two in tow.
A temporary outdoor art installation was unveiled at City Hall in December. Being very new to the area we were unaware of this addition to the neighbourhood. I think we slowly noticed it as we began to take regular evening walks past City Hall a few weeks ago. To us, it’s just an organic part of the whole tableau rather than a flashy encroacher. Standing in the middle of an empty fountain it reminds me of nothing so much as a tall cylindrical crinkly paper lampshade despite being made from Corian, a material as hard as granite, and having a 9 foot tall steel frame. At night it lights up from within. My daughter is mesmerised by the colours and shapes that appear at different times, like waves projected through the rippled surface. I often think fancifully that it’s rather like a breathing fairy tale, speaking in colours without words. If you look it up online you will discover that the installation is called Culver Currents. There’s a fair amount of information which discusses its innovative role as a digital community fountain that you can discover if such is your interest. I’m just happy to weave threads of fancy around it and enjoy the innocent pleasure my daughter takes in watching its constantly changing surface of an evening.
In the day time, the towering cypresses and palm trees in the gardens and the Spanish mission style architecture of the three story structure make for a soothing place to rest one’s mind. I usually find myself sitting beside the long reflecting pool with its four miniature waterfalls, gazing through the stillness of the surface while listening to the water flowing down from above. Water is one of my favourite sounds. Whether I’m hearing the ocean waves roaring towards the sand or the far more modest conversation of a garden water feature, my mood will always soften. We sat by the pool this morning, my daughter the dog and I, quite happily, with no particular aim in mind. Magical really, such a quiet and unassuming spot and yet always ready to offer comfort and solace if one remembers to stop and bide a while.
