Summer rain falling across Los Angeles tonight, warm and humid. I drove across the city through downtown, taking in the soft rhythm of the drops and the wiper blades sliding across the glass.
I was caught up in a dream, imagining how life twists and turns and lands and there we are, someplace new yet also the same. The city is beautiful tonight with the clouds swirling around the tops of the skyscrapers, the shimmering lights from the Bonaventure Hotel, L.A. Live, the lofts and apartments standing tall over the tarps and tents of the homeless gathered under freeway overpasses and in the nooks and crannies of Hollywood just to keep us honest. There is a thin line between those who are dry and those living rough in the elements. In all the beauty we cannot forget.
It is early yet; the summer solstice is still a week or so away.
I remember fireworks in my grandparents’ back yard. I remember homemade ice cream, cakes decorated in red, white and blue for the Fourth of July, playing hide and seek in the summer darkness. Swimming in the public pool. Body surfing at Zuma.
Days gone. People gone. Memories, warm and soft like gentle rain, still haunting me.