The View

We live in a neighborhood that I think of as devoid of views, no one’s idea of the sweeping vistas that you want to greet you and your coffee in the morning. Our home faces north and shares a wall with our neighbor on the east. To the south, on the other side of a deteriorating block wall, another neighbor. And if you look west over the top of our garden wall, you see this. The boat has been bound and tied in that spot since we moved in, the magic bus began yellow, turned blue, and during the pandemic broke out in colored spots. The panel van is a mystery that comes and goes. The townhouses, Broadmor II, are for the most part lifeless; we know people live there only because the trash and recycling trucks empty the bins every week. In the distance you see some palm trees, date and Mexican fan, and a power pole that our neighborhood hawks sometimes visit —- to the dismay of our local doves.

But even this view can surprise. On a rare cloudy day a few weeks ago, on a morning that teased us into thinking it might actually rain, the sun did this and I caught it.