Return of Speed

Back in our favourite spot, on a supremely hot Labour Day weekend, we sit in contented silence. After a stretch where our feet only lightly touched the ground, it’s enough just to enjoy the ocean. Later, while husband, children and dog frolic, I wallow in the humidity and watch the air hang itself out to dry in a blue haze. The first shiver of Autumn that I felt in London is very far away; yet when I close my eyes in concentration I can summon it into being.

The thought occurred to me some days ago that one of Odysseus’ foolish men must have opened Aeolus’ bag of winds and driven us from the shores of Europe, such was the speed of our inevitable departure and return home. Without missing a beat, my husband disappeared to work the morning after our late night arrival. We barely drew breath all week as the strange landscape of reverse jetlag flung open its doors and significant decisions about our children’s futures rushed in upon us. Not to forget, of course, the beloved doggie whose wild excitement at our return was marked by a hilariously sweet confusion: with so many family members returning at once, how could he possibly give affection to each with sufficient speed?

Outside of our personal domestic maelstrom, much of Los Angeles is silent still. Religious buildings are prohibited from operating indoors, many businesses, primarily in the fitness and beauty industry,  are shuttered and restaurants are constrained to outdoor seating only. As far as we know, all educational institutions are operating virtually and so the sense of unreality pervades- whether one is willing to acknowledge it or not.

Back on the beach where families happily enjoy their holiday, the breeze of normality blows freely. As the afternoon slides into a cooler evening I sit on the sand and see that the snow peaks of the ocean are now capped with silver. I have the feeling that the next few months are going to be full of the unexpected and I’m looking forward to enjoying whatever arises.