Fences

This weekend was a blur of activity. Actions, and interactions all bleeding together in the wash. In order to take it all in imagine you are driving by a wooden fence. As you zoom past you catch glimpses of a scene through the spaces between the slats. You weave together the negative space, crafting a loose net that catches the essence. Got it? Good. Start your engines. Friends sit atop a washer and dryer on PF's balcony. Music and chatter creep out from under the door frame. The party beckons but it can wait a few minutes. Flash. Another house. A few more people. Bodies spilling out onto the front lawn, drawn by the irresistible coolness of the night. Flash. Five kids swim in a sea of light. The waters of the illuminated Eagle Rock Pool churn as the companions leap from the life guard stands, race, backflip, flop, play. Clothes sit abandoned in piles by a chain-linked fence that was so recently scaled. Inhibitions and maturity keep them company, all useless on a summer night. Flash. A similar scene, yet an entirely different vibe: the Oxy pool during the day. Swimmers stuck on replay, following invariable routes back and forth, back and forth. Sunbathers lay prostrate praying for color. Sunscreen and tanning oils saturate the air. Music blares. Shoulders burn. Flash. KC and I sit in comfortable boredom on a set of steps. ACM and MS pull up. Flash. Shouts fill the air. Someone darts through the crowd pursuing a rogue ping pong ball. I catch the competitive spark in KC's eyes, which before long will evolve into a drunken gloss. Flash. "City Hall" fills with aromas of sauteed garlic, as I take my turn to feed the family. Food and drink get lazily passed around as Sunday draws to a close. We try to reflect on the weekend, but its a task better left to Sisyphus. There's too much. Lately it seems there is always too much, and in that I catch some bliss.