The West End

moon

Somewhere on this great big planet a cowgirl with a long blonde ponytail was riding on a palomino horse yesterday along an empty road...while everything glowed golden.

Cattle grazed in open fields of sun-bleached grass, and plump cinematic clouds hovered above the hills, and a faint white moon made its appearance, and I was blessed to bear witness.

Earlier, a man in a hilltop house he calls the Arcropolis served us wine and cheese and olives and spoke of his Greek heritage while the wind outside swirled and mountain shadows shifted. San Miguel, Santa Rosa, and Santa Cruz islands seemed to float dreamily on the distant horizon and sky and sea shaded imperceptibly into each other.

The clamor of the world was briefly muted. This, too, is real.

And everything glowed golden.