All in Family
My husband and son left early yesterday for a soccer tournament in San Diego. The noisy haste with which they departed left an unexpected stillness in its wake. Living the speedy dance of family life the weekends often pass in a blur and so I’ve spent quiet moments sitting on our balcony watching the rain as our dog gazes territorially at passers by and offers the odd ferocious bark.
We headed out last night into the freedom of an evening without children. From the frazzled normality of busy Saturday afternoon parents we were transformed into a carefree couple thanks to the magic only a trusted babysitter can bring. As we drove in the slow moving twilight traffic towards the restaurant my husband had chosen I remembered just how essential regular evenings such as this one are. It’s almost easy to forget that the two of you exist outside of your identity as parents without them.
It rained in Los Angeles this past week. The city finds it impossible to behave as usual in the wet weather. Everything is suddenly difficult- and this place is not built for hardship. Water is everywhere as the rainfall has nowhere to go and venturing outside of one’s dwelling place suddenly becomes an expedition into the wilderness.
Christmas is almost upon us and my three year old is beside herself with excitement that Santa will be coming to town anytime now. It’s a funny thing living in Southern California at this time of the year. I remember our first Christmas here before our hearts had fully comprehended what our heads had already understood; that we’d put the East Coast and Europe down, at least for a while .
There’s a line from The Little Prince that’s often on my mind these days. The book is full of wisdom and beauty and I’ve loved it at various stages of life. I think I first discovered it as a child and was captivated by the drawings of the elephant digesting a boa constrictor. Then, during my later teenage years, it was the Fox and the Rose with whom I became fascinated and I must confess that it is to them that my thoughts usually return.
I’ve been thinking about crossroads, both literal and metaphorical recently. Whether it’s because we are about to enter the high school process with my son and the elementary one with my daughter, or due to my own position now that I no longer have a child at home full time, or simply because the Blues have been on my mind since I started watching Under the Influence and the long shadow of Robert Johnson is hard to ignore I don’t know. Nonetheless the crossroads are there, lurking.
We went running this evening around the Brentwood Country Club. As the sun drew low behind the tall palm trees the air filled with that Los Angeles twilight to which no picture can ever do justice. It is not just the quality of the light but the feel of it that’s important; as if one had stepped for a moment into a strange, transcendent realm where bathing in light itself was all of a sudden a real possibility and for that brief magical time everything is transfigured.
We had a lovely afternoon today. It was our first opportunity to gather with our closest friends here for Sunday lunch since coming home from Europe at the beginning of September. It’s a tradition that has developed over the last couple of years as our ties have grown stronger. Everyone usually manages to get together around each month or so.
I’ve been thinking about neighbourhoods these past few days. We’ve lived in a fair few during our years in America so far; settling into a new one always takes me some time. Once the initial excitement is over I become tortoise-like in my behaviour, withdrawing into my shell and peeking out occasionally as I move around the new environment establishing points of connection.
We’ve been home in Los Angeles for a week now. The whirlwind of our return has just deposited me down to the ground and I can finally take a breath!
Under the Red Sky was Bob Dylan’s 27th studio album. With its ominous title and deceptively simple songs it captured my imagination from the first time I heard it. It struck me today that I was a little younger than my eldest child when it was released; he is thirteen next month.
We took a drive up the Pacific Coast Highway to Malibu a couple of nights ago; heading out into the hazy traffic of an LA summer evening…. I think there’s something about the nature of the American West that alters our understanding of the world and our place within it. Whether it’s ultimately positive or negative I really couldn’t say.
