|Briar Summit, three weeks ago, with Minky, the Spotteds & Thistle|
Sunday, January 19, 2014
The walk I do when I don't have a lot of time, or when I've left it too late in the day, is close to my house, just off of Mulholland. Not a lot of people know about it. It's a paved road that goes up a hill, through lone coyote country to a water tower called the Firenze Tank and then beyond it, a little mini power station that you can break into through a fence, which gives you the most extraordinary views of LA. Today I forgot my phone and hence my camera and I forced myself to take it in, to be in it instead of be recording it. I find this hard. I willed myself to remember the papery purple hills in their delicacy, the pale pink of Santa Monica bay, the brown/pink light that infused the canyons, the blue sky further above dashed with wispy cloud. The birds were singing. All I can think is "what would this book be called?" How does "The Brown/Pink Light Turner So Loved" sound? Awful, I know. The Spotted and Thistle were with me and the tape that's on in my head is playing again again I am so very grateful.