It’s a jungle out there. My patio sounds like the jungle river boat ride at Disneyland minus the parrots. The apple tree has leafed out and nest materials are being gathered. There’s a mockingbird who is the star of the show. He is insistent that I listen to his entire repertoire before he flies away. “Pipe down,” I say to myself, repeating something my Dad used to say when things got noisy. Evidently, the mockingbird figures importantly into Darwin’s theory of evolution as it was this bird he was studying when he experienced a breakthrough which resulted in the theory of evolution. Speaking of mocking birds, check out the 1970-something James Taylor/Carly Simon You Tube video where they sing “Mockingbird.” Mock — yeah! Bird — yeah! Mockingbuuurrd!!
A fun new discovery is the miniature blue and white “Kuhland Alley Tiny Library” in front of a house painted in the identical colors. “Take a book or leave a book” the sign says. There is even a bottle of hand sanitizer next to it.
A bushy green wisteria in front of Robert Arnesons’s old studio clings to a power line and attaches to the street light looking like a giant giraffe from a certain angle. Soon it will be draped in hanging, purple blossoms.The succulents in the front garden of the little fisherman’s cottage on Peggy Martin Lane are sprouting huge bright orange rockets from their centers. What wondrous and strange plants. Every succulent seems to have a primitive-looking new growth to attract the pollinators.
For the past year or so, I’ve noticed the same sign up in front of some homes and condos. They are quite attractive with colorful chalk words written on a blackboard type background. The signs say: “We believe science is real, women’s rights are human rights, Black Lives Matter, no person is illegal, love is love, diversity makes us stronger. Someday we might not need the signs to remind us of what we stand for.
That girl in the window of Sala Thai has a change of clothes. Last time I saw her she was draped in a silk kimono languishing in a Victorian chair. Now she is decked out in a black satin fringed flapper dress that would be appropriate for a party at Jay Gatsby’s. What frock will she wear next?
There is always something of interest in the window of Antiques on First. Right now it’s a classic, red metal gum ball machine that reminds me of a Wayne Thiebaud series. An antique, red children’s fire truck sits outside beside a stack of vintage suitcases and a wicker high chair. It’s the 1960’s train case that grabs me. My sister Susan and I had matching Skyway luggage when we were teenagers – hers blue and mine white. The quilted, blue satin lining was gorgeous but impractical if anything spilled, which it always did. But I felt very grown up with my three-piece set of Skyway until it got banged up and too heavy to carry. This was before the invention of the wheel.
Have passed by the Juice House between West F and West G Street many times but have never gone in. This was the day as I had skipped lunch and wanted something healthy. Their sign out front said they offer fresh, raw, organic cold-pressed juices. Colorful green, orange, yellow bottles caught my eye as a handsome and friendly fellow named Nico greeted me. He inquired about what I liked and described each drink. We settled on the Green Machine consisting of celery, cucumber, kale, chard, parsley, spinach, apple, lemon and ginger. All ingredients come from local organic suppliers. As I walked up First sipping the cool, green, healthy liquid, I imagined my biceps and calf muscles growing until my seams burst.
Was sad to see that Timeless Memories antiques in the Tannery owned by the super-friendly Moe is going out of business. He is moving to Kent, Ohio where his daughter is finishing up medical school. He said it’s a peaceful, beautiful little town and very affordable. Said he was able to buy two houses for $250,000 each!
I decided I’d treat myself to lunch, so stopped at Char’s Hotdogs for a regular dog with all of the trimmings. Tasty! The new owner bought out Char five years ago and is going strong. I sat at a small table outside. A precocious little boy at the next table walked over and told me in exquisite detail all about a bee sting he’d gotten on his eyelid a few years back. Then he told me again. I thought I’d impress him by telling him how I had gotten stung on the lips — bee-stung lips — while biting down on a giant turkey leg at the Marin Renaissance Faire years ago. He looked at me with a serious expression and said, “You should have paid more attention.” Point taken.
Sarah Beserra is an artist, writer, collector, Dharma practitioner, and a former lobbyist.
Letters From Benicia 