Green Parrots

There is that special time in the summer evening when the sun is still up,  dinner is over, maybe a movie is on for the kids and you get that really peaceful, easy feeling.  I'm there right now.  I just took a solo stroll with Odi, the 100 lb eunuch (German Shepard) who looks like he would eat your hand if he could, but would actually lick it and tell you in desperate little yelps that he loves you, wants to snuggle you, just really wants to be on your lap.  Together we clipped along looking at the variety of homes in our new neighborhood from Boo Radley's house next door to the $3 million monstrosity down the street.  And everything in between.  Some yards are meticulously manicured.  Some haven't been touched in years.  The only thing universal in this beautiful little nook of the world is the lush greenery.  The nesturcian flowers vining up fences, palms towering overhead, huge pines that have spent a century turning into giants.  I love Leucadia.

Passing each stranger on the street, I found it a challenge to be the first to say "Hello".  There is a friendliness here that suggests we all know that there are few places more special to live and we share our fortune by putting out the happy vibes.  I passed a young guy plucking bright oranges from a beautiful tree in his front yard, and he took a moment to say hi.  Not more than a minute later as I made a bend in our loop, I heard a loud, unfamiliar screeching sound from high up in the trees.  After ruling out the possibility of a rogue howler monkey, I stopped and waited to see if anything emerged.  Then, lo and behold, a flock of bright green parrots shot out of a tree, flapping twice as hard as most other birds.  I have never seen parrots in Encinitas, but then again, why wouldn't they want to live here?  It's got everything a parrot could want.

The rest of Odi's and my walk was pretty uneventful, but I made a point to say hello to the teenage boys sneaking a smoke while they "take the dog for a walk".  We passed the much-loathed lot where a greenhouse stood for 40 years and is now being turned into a 19 home subdivision (on top of toxic soil nonetheless) and then approached home.  As we passed the neighbors' house on the corner, perched in the nook of the large tree in their front driveway, was a picture album, dirty and worn looking.  I am assuming it fell out of someone's bag?  I can't think of too many reasons why a picture album would be sitting in the trunk of a tree out on the street in front of an elderly couple's home.  But on the front of the album in cursive letters was the word "Memories".

There are moments where I feel that I have peeled away the layers of stress and I leave myself available to the flowing tides of love and goodness.  In those special moments, when I am not trying to do too much or be something different than who I am, I feel close to God, to truth.  I also feel close to my dad.  He reaches me in moments of vulnerability and I am so grateful.  It will be 4 years this summer since I saw his face.  So in the moment that I turn that corner and see a random photo album with Memories sewn onto it, I feel it is a little gift to me from his perch in heaven.  It is his wish for me that I remember the memories made already and appreciate the good fortune I have now, like living in a place that makes me feel good.  Nothing else really matters.

I came home from my walk, did some sun salutations on the grass in my front yard as the sun fell into the ocean.  This was an incredible ending to a good day and I am thankful.

How is that for a sappy post...anyone barfing yet?  Hopefully, I will not lose one of my 3 followers!!  :)

xoxo Lo


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