Day 129: Illusions

Shelter in Place, San Francisco, California, July 24, 2020

From one small vantage point in the garden one might be excused for thinking that we live at the edge of a deep forest. The narrow sight lines lead the eye over our fence and diagonally across two yards whose large palms form shadows that seem to go on forever. It’s an illusion, of course. Beyond these small collective gardens is a busy street, and beyond that a hill, and beyond that a freeway, and beyond that skyscrapers, trains, and shipyards, and beyond that the bay, and beyond that the rest of our country, steeped in crisis. You can’t see any of that from here. And for several minutes of the day, as the sun dances through the darkness, I feel safe and well protected. Blessed even. It is enough for now. Perhaps some other day I’ll look beyond the trees to learn for myself it isn’t true.

Day 127: Looking Up

Shelter in Place, San Francisco, California, July 22, 2020

The renters’ yard next door is only big enough for one small tree, but a spectacular one it is, sprouting at least once a year the most tropical of flowers that catch the sun and sway in breezy afternoons. I’m not crazy about perfume in my garden but the fragrance of these washes over our deck like the elegant and honorary guests these blossoms are. This shot is from the walk between our houses looking up and towards the sun.

When I first retired, my financial advisor told me to “front load” my savings, anticipating that we would want a larger budget in the first few years to do all the things the luckiest of retired people do - travel, go to the theater, treat ourselves to special meals. Not big stuff, but allowing ourselves little adventures while we still can. 2020, John and I decided, was going to be the year we finally let go a little of the purse strings and indulged ourselves. But here we sit. All dressed up and nowhere to go. 

I’m not feeling sorry for myself. Well, maybe a little. In fact, I’ve been in a bit of a funk this week, anticipating this, the first day of my seventieth decade, helpless as the window of good health and playtime left to me gets smaller by the day. This is not how I thought my life would play out, my seventies unraveled and unspent. But then, before I could even get out of bed this morning, the birthday messages began pouring in, reminding me that friends enrich my life much more than planes and playthings could ever do. Plus, my kids and grandkids have checked in today - be still, my heart - and my dear husband drove me to a fish wholesaler to pick up the lobster he had shipped in from Maine, and he unearthed and put on ice the last bottle of champagne from our wedding several years ago. Life, I am reminded, is about relationships and love. So there you are. Suddenly this afternoon I’m feeling rich in friends and grateful, and my seventies - no matter what may happen next - are looking up.

Day 126: The Pink Force

Shelter in Place, San Francisco, California, July 21, 2020

Our hydrangea in the back still sports a lovely crop of flowers that, from a certain angle, form a valiant and united army of pink. I hate making my daily commentary either political rant or self-pitying whine, so I’ll just dedicate this stalwart blooming bulwark to the moms in Portland who stood shoulder to shoulder last night, facing what their Governor is now calling “Trump’s Troops,” as she demands that this cobbled military force stand down and leave the state. 

I remember vividly the very day in high school over 50 years ago when, after lessons on the rise of Fascism in Europe, I assured myself that it could never happen here because we’d recognize the signs and all rise up to stop it. I am reminded of that revelatory (and naive) moment now as historians and experts point to the incremental assault on democracy that has inched forward for four years now, until we’ve reached this moment, where the president musters a makeshift police force against his own people and thumbs his nose at local government officials and the constitution. We may not all join these brave mothers in the streets - today, at least - but there is something we can and MUST do - VOTE! And do everything we can to get those who see these actions as an affront to do the same. This is not about political differences. It is neither red nor blue. It is about heeding history, upholding decency and law. 

May the number of outraged mothers and grandmothers grow in force and may they hold the line. And may we all do what we can to uphold and represent the values they protect.