The heat kills. enough heat and humidity in just a short walk to be totally wiped out. The idyllic house by the ocean had its problems: hundreds of beachgoers appeared in July, and they loomed up close to the huge glass windows which serve as walls. Garbage overflowed the one big bin near the little store. Every morning the restaurant workers patiently raked the sand clean of garbage.
Then there was the lack of water. the muncipal pump broke down. For weeks it only worked sporadically. Each house has a holding tank for water. After several weeks, a city truck began coming by to fill the tanks. Only we never knew when it might show up. If I failed to hear it on the street or wasn't home, then there would be no water at all.
The darkness at night began to get me. That is, the house is huge, with a low ceiling and unfinished concrete floor, unfinished sheetrock for the ceiling. and about three naked light bulbs for illumination.
Finally, I left. But I came back each night to keep the cat company. I fell in love with the cat, a white partially Siamese cat, I think. She was tender, tentative, inquisitive, and so well bred, so elegant, and she would look at me with so much intelligence and curiosity in her eyes. I miss her. I miss the waves. The sound of the waves. the nearness of the ocean.
The owner returned. And it all has begun to recede like a dream into the mist of memory. And I miss this house enormously, and wish I had stayed longer. Perhaps it is my own restlessness, my inner tormentor. Although I have meditated for so many years, there is so much left to learn. The house had a magical quality. The present and past collide with conflicting images, and in the end memory reconstructs something altogether different.
Causes Maria Espinosa Supports
Amnesty International, KPFA, anything to ameliorate homelessness and to make shelters more livable