Sunday, September 27, 2015

Super Moon/Blood Moon and Its Eclipse

Mural by Los Angeles artist Kent Twitchell

It's been a million years or so since my regular drives on the Hollywood Freeway that took me by this mural. The mural has long since been painted over and the '66 Dodge Coronet that carried me through L.A, was consigned to the scrap heap ages ago. But the freeway lady materialized before my eyes tonight when M and I wheeled my mom outside and around the corner to see the eclipse.


Just like that the past slipped its shadow in front of the present. I was my daughter's age, windows rolled down, the heat of the freeway and southern California's 70s drought searing me to the seat of that old car. I didn't know I'd end up here and now with grown children and an ancient mother, trailing the wreckage of a life behind me as long as the freeway lady's afghan.

But here we are. Tonight my mother and my daughter and I stood outside and stared at the moon as it disappeared. Gone. Like a painted over mural.




5 comments:

It's a weird way to have a conversation. But go ahead. Then I'll find your blog (if you have one) and comment about something there. We probably won't be talking about the same thing--but I've had conversations like that, haven't you?