Friday, November 1, 2013

A Chance Possum Sighting

It had been a long week. In a land that once felt foreign, but that had begun to seem more familiar than anywhere else I call home these days. I’d made it back to LA after a five-hour flight, past an airport full of costumes, to the delightful quiet of my patio. I could smell the ocean, and at this late hour, I could hear the waves crashing on the beach. I let my elbows rest on the ledge of the patio, and my mind started to float away…slowly powering down… unwinding from the never-ending tornado of details and to-dos that take me hostage through the work weeks.

Just past my immediate vision, I made out movement. I focused my gaze downward, beyond my railing, and although I wasn’t wearing my glasses, I saw a slow oscillation. It was white, and glowed against the darkness. Was it a grocery bag or an animal? There weren’t animals at the beach. There was life to it. I squinted hard, focusing for a solid moment in time until I gasped. It was alive. And there it was… a POSSUM! A possum sighting! My first in years. Slowly, it made its way along the neighborhood halfway house, and under their community van. I crossed the patio to get a better look. From behind the front tire, it peered its dopey head out. I hissed. It ducked. I jumped up and down. There was a flutter of scurrying. Come on little possum. Show me your white snout. I need to see it. I have… to... see… you. A few seconds later, it emerged into the dim street light, its eyes reflecting in my direction as it made its way back into the night. 















And that was all it took . The beach possum that lifted me from my state of exhaustion and indifference to curiosity and wonder.     

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