Quietly Watching

After applying sun block, I walk to the riverbed.

In the middle of the riverbed I encounter a fallen tree.

A giant eucalyptus it seems, covered in debris.

It lies so peacefully in death. 

It’s rough bark stripped away by the water, leaving it smooth and white.

Dried bamboo leaves hang from the branches, rustling in the wind.

There are three huge limbs connected at a base of dried out roots suspended in air.

I sit upon one of the limbs and wrap my legs around it, my feet barley reach each other.

It’s so peaceful here, so tranquil and calm.

I hear the cars on the highway, so busy and rushed.

I feel like I could stay here, like this forever.

The wind blows on my face, howling in my ears.

The warm sun beats down on my shoulders.

I hear the trickling of the mighty Ventura River, reduced to a lonely stream.

A black lizard scurries before me.

I can see where the tip of his tail has grown back.

He watches me with beady little eyes.

Who will make the first move?

Will I pursue him?

Will he have to leave his paradise of warmth?

I look up and he’s gone.

I watch the jade-green water flow down the stream.

It looks so calm and still, then the rocks interrupt this even flow into

glistening falls and currents creating bubbles that flow into another calm pool.

Something moves behind me, a bird hopping on the tree.

His red breast shimmers in the sunlight, as dose his raven-black back.

He has a neon-orange beak, the strangest bird I’ve seen around here.

It is his kind that calls from the trees.

It is they who entertain me.

I hear an ambulance and look up.

It and a couple of red fire engines are parked on the bank.

Three firemen and some people are standing around by the water.

I don’t know what is happening.

Out come the paramedics, then they, my father and brother, the firemen, and a few other people walk back to their cars, nobody is being carried away, the commotion is over.

My attention returns to my little hideaway.

Here I am, just an observer.

I watch and I listen and nobody notices me.

That is the way I like it.

My brother returns to his football, throwing it up in the air.

A couple return to their fishing and another go back to their car.

The birds continue their song.

The dry bamboo leaves blow in the wind, softly rustling.

The sounds of the highway begin to fade as I concentrate on my surroundings.

The wind tries to remove the scarf from my head.

Thus returns my serenity, peaceful and calm.

The lizard returns, now amongst the rocks.

He does a few push-ups, and watches me with his beady little eyes.

He is content with what he sees.

He goes about his business and hurries under the dry debris.

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