Today is hot and windy. The air is full of flying locusts, or maybe they’re just dead leaves, I can’t tell and won’t go outside to find out. Every couple of minutes I check the internet, hoping that the forecast will change, that a storm system will move down from the north and drench us but the news is grim. At least four more days of Red Flags.
Red Flags are dangerous though quiet days. Weed whackers, chain saws, and power tools of any sort are prohibited thus an eerie quiet prevails in the bedroom communities, broken only by an occasional car. I worry about the pile of dead branches my neighbor is breeding so close to our property but in his untended Spanish-style abode I have heard he breeds other, more sinister things than piles of dead branches so I’ll just worry.
I can remember years when the rain fell constantly from November to June. April showers did not bring flowers but more showers. Of course those years I had small children and thus the constant rain meant canceled soccer practices and girl scout outings, forcing us to stay inside and wish for sun.
I’m waiting for a friend to arrive. She may have forgotten. She does that sometimes. I may be waiting a long time for nothing.
She is moving, this friend. Leaving hot, dusty California, long-time pals, hairdressers, doctors, special restaurants and bookstores to find new ones in the Colorado mountains where there may still be snow. I don’t know what I will say to her. It would be different if the move were not necessitated by money and health concerns but it’s a Red Flag day and I’m not feeling very wise so I plan to pop in a movie, one about stepping out of your comfort zone, taking a chance and finding new friends and purpose in life. I hope it helps.