Big Blue

The expectation of southern California was one of blue skies and warm sun. Blue skies there are. Not a cloud to seen. I sit in the backyard with the little dog warming my feet. for the temperature is not my fondest expectation. Forty five degrees, maybe up to fifty one later if I’m lucky. No matter. I am in California and the rain passed with the clouds. A new shoot pokes into the blue from the palm tree in the back yard. Out front Melito Drive has eight-foot high magnolia trees in luscious, fragrant bloom proudly standing by. A man with leathered face watches me taking photographs and asks “What are they called?” Smart knowledgeable me says, “Magnolias.” Sliding that gem of information into his library memory, he nods and saunters on along the sidewalk taking into account each tree that passes. Almost a culture shock from the walnut trees in my own backyard.
Naomi Sherer