The boy could not have been more than five or six years old. But it was hard to tell exactly because he had his back to me. Sitting cross-legged, his posture relaxed, he appeared like a young Buddha. His wavy brown hair glistened in the morning sun as he observed the meditative push of the waves onto the sandy shore.
“See how beautiful it is?” he said.
And it was. In fact, it was perfect. The ocean was a collage of azure waves and sea foam lapping against the shore in the early morning light. White curls crested atop waves that seemed to arrive from another time. Unending. Rhythmic. Persistent.
But there was more to the picture than that. Standing 20 feet behind the boy gave me a panoramic view. It was definitely a tropical landscape, although I’m not sure where it was, and it really doesn’t matter. And it was beautiful — beyond words. High above the cascading waves, the deep-blue sky was adorned with dreamy horsetail clouds. Those are the gentle clouds, sweet, if you know what I mean.
Just off to my left sat a glass jar filled with money. Perched on a sand dune, it was only a peripheral distraction. Still, I was acutely aware of its presence.
Turning my attention back to the boy, I said, “Yes. It is so very beautiful.”
I did not know this boy.
Another day in Silicon Valley. Up at 5:30 a.m. Two cups of coffee, then off to the YMCA to do my laps. It feels fantastic to swim. But one of my favorite things about the “Y” is that they have a huge spa right next to the pool. So when you finish your laps you can jump in the spa, fire up the jets, and RELAX. For ten minutes—no more. You don’t want to go back to sleep. Gets too hot anyway. I had lobster feet last week.
Bruce was there again today. He’s a good guy, I think. He likes to chat in the spa and the last time I saw him there, he told me he was trying to go back to school (not sure what for) but he said he was struggling with math. He’s probably trying to retrain for a new career. I guess that’s not too surprising. Lots of folks are out of work here and just trying to get by. And it’s very expensive to live here, which only makes it harder. I try not to pry and just let him guide the conversation.
Well, today Bruce is talking about Julius Irving, “Nobody knows who he is anymore! I mean, kids today, what do they know?”
I’m like, “Oh, you mean Dr. J. ”
He’s like, “YEAH. That’s right!”
“Played for NY didn’t he?” I say.
“YEAH, then Philadelphia,” says Bruce.
Now the guy next to Bruce wakes up and starts talking to me about old movies. I guess he thinks I know about these things, since I remembered “the doctor.” At least I hope that is the reason he thinks I know about these things.
“Do you remember that movie with Gene Tierney? Oh, I can’t remember the name of it right now (closing his eyes now to visualize the answer), but it was about that girl that was murdered and the detective who is investigating the crime – he falls in love with her! He never even met her!”
Now we’re playing Jeopardy in the spa and I haven’t even had my breakfast yet.
“You mean, Laura?”
YEAH! That’s it!
I think it is time to hit the showers. “Well guys, I’ve got to get to work! Have a great weekend!” As I’m getting out of the spa, they notice how tall I am.
Hey, do YOU play basketball?
I’m like, “not anymore.”
Night and Day is an online journal that contrasts my dreams with my daytime activities. I refer to these posts as episodes because I only recall my dreams sporadically, and because they are at best loosely connected to my days.