Cirque du Soleil and a Windstorm

The twilight was enchanting in San Francisco last night, following a surreal day in the aftermath of the fierce windstorm that swept the Bay Area the night before.

I woke up to a chainsaw cutting the branches of a huge tree that had fallen on top of a house I could see from our balcony 200 feet as the crow flies. I stood out there in the early morning, watching a surefooted tree-worker walking along the slanted roof, cutting branches and throwing them off, seemingly unaware of the danger he was in, maneuvering that angled surface high above the ground. I sure hope those guys are paid well.

Later my friend, Lisa and I walked Lake Merritt, and to my horror, we came upon a gigantic fallen Eucalyptus, laying dead on its side, thick roots exposed above a huge, gaping hole. How did this being, so proud and tall for over 70 years, get completely uprooted like that? I felt unspeakably sad, standing in the small crowd, taking its picture with our cell phones. I feel kind of guilty about that, but I wanted you to see it. That wind swept a lot of life away in its destruction last night, including two unfortunate people and thousands of power lines.

I have loved that tree. I have delighted in its fresh, minty smell and its towering height over the Lake Chalet and the Campbell House. I have admired it for thirteen years of sojourns around the lake. And now it is gone.

Ok, change in emotion - -

Cirque du Soleil was truly wondrous. Thank you to Edie and Kevin’s generosity and Rob’s 50th birthday, (18 months ago!); I am so grateful I had the opportunity to see that incredible art performance in my life. I don't know if I ever would have gone had Rob not wanted to go. It is truly amazing what the human body is capable of doing and we had good enough seats to really notice the expression on their faces and how intensely they focus. It was especially interesting to watch the spotter's faces - oh my goodness, they work hard! They may look like they're just standing there, but they are intensely aware of the danger their colleagues are risking. There was one rather sudden, hard landing that I don't think went as planned - - the young man came down off of this see saw thing, plummeting from very high in the air, with a scary thud and then, something happened very quickly with the spotters to make it all ok.

I felt so much intensity the whole night - I was so nervous someone was going to get hurt. I enjoyed it, yes, but felt kind of guilty about it at the same time - here these young healthy people were going through incredibly dangerous movements, where one slip could paralyze them for the rest of their lives, just for my entertainment.

These young folks are fancy, (and hopefully, well paid) “tree-workers”, too, I’ll tell you that!

The music was perfect; raunchy rock and roll, with lots of primitive beats and edgy lead guitar; the singer’s eerie howling reflecting the danger and intensity of the performances. It was especially cool at the end when the musicians took their bows and we realized they were all women! Wild women!

Believe it or not, although the dangerous airborne acts were thrilling, I think my favorite part was this slightly overweight, sexy older woman, (most of the performers were in their early 20s and perfectly fit), who picked up these long branch-like sticks with her toes and balanced them perfectly on top of each another, while continuing to lean over ever so carefully to pick up the next one with her curled toes. It was interesting how the whole thing started; quiet, ominous music with this rather nondescript woman picking up sticks off the floor. Then, you were gradually lured in and it became more and more focused and intense, until by the end she had, I can’t even tell you how many branches, balanced on top of each other in a vast circular array all around her. The music had completely stopped and you could hear a pin drop among the 2,000 + people under that tent. Edie called it a holy moment. I am telling you, I was so completely entranced and nervous they were all going to drop, that I almost wished the silly, slapstick clowns would come back out to relieve the tension. (My least favorite part.)

Then she was finished; balancing the entire array of branches on the tip of the very last branch she picked up carefully and erected vertically by its narrow point on the ground. (I imagined the veins popping out of her aforehead with concentration.) She waited a moment while we reveled in the glory of it all; and slowly removed the smallest branch and the whole thing came crashing down. Kind of like how I imagined the grand Eucalyptus at Lake Merritt.

Walking back, over the Lefty O’Doul drawbridge, water gleaming below, reflected by the light of the perfectly shaped half moon, palm trees swaying, still downright balmy, the very air amplified by fresh ions, shadows and light, in surreal contrast to the fierce 65 mph winds of the night before; I’m telling you it was a magical, almost eerie, unforgettable evening in one of the most beautiful cities in the world.

Toby’s Angel

Toby went to the vet last Thursday. He had a hacking cough, his nose dripped and he snarfled while purring and eating his food. He was put on a two week round of antibiotics and told to come back for a check-up. Everything went well, thank you, God, the cough and the snarfling were both gone and he even lost a pound. (The vet suspects that weight may be the culprit of many of his troubles).

Toby and his mummy drove home, happy that he was well and even a bit thinner. Little did we know the worst was yet to come. Arriving at home, I greeted Vivian, our neighbor, in the garage as I hefted Toby in his carrier (still quite heavy) and began to transport him from the garage to the lobby.  Poor guy had already suffered a trip to the vet, interminable poking and prodding, two sets of X-rays, and a sanitary shave, and he thought he was finished with the morning’s indignities when suddenly the top of the carrier broke lose and down he went on the hard cement with a loud thud! Poor thing just sat there, stunned on his towel. But then as I went to gingerly lift him out of the bottom half of the carrier he suddenly leaped out of my arms and all 16.5 pounds of fiercely wriggling cat went streaking toward the grocery carts. Vivian grabbed the carrier and I ran to the carts in quick pursuit but he was already gone. I spotted the small opening underneath the mesh of the garage door and I panicked. He has never been outside. He would be gone forever. Our sweet Toby!

Then I heard Vivian’s voice from the voice from the lobby, “I have her, I have her in here!” (Toby is so pretty everyone thinks “he” is a “she”.)

I ran to the lobby, scooping him up, grateful that no one chose to open the front door to the lobby that very moment. Together, Vivian and I carried Toby, decapitated carrier and furry towel up the elevator and she followed me all the way to our front door. As can only be imagined he headed straight for the closet, (opened the door; Lena still marvels about that) and there he stayed for the duration of the morning. Later that evening when Rob put the carrier back together and declared it secure, Toby darted at the very sound of it, huddling nervous and anxious behind the couch. My heart went out to him as I spooned out extra wet food. Poor thing, he had a very traumatic day!

Thank you God for our good neighbor, Vivian. What would I have done without her? Would Toby be roaming the streets of Oakland, wet and scared? How we all need each other! I love living in community. How grateful I am for generous Vivian, Toby’s (and my) angel.

Relaxed Once Again!