Saturday

It's our last Saturday in California, a bright fresh day. We, like hundreds of others, take to the beach for a four block stroll along the sand and sea. Because it is only 11 in the morning, it is not too busy yet but there are several hundred people staking out their place in the sun. Yesterday's cold onshore winds have subsided and the day promises to be pleasant.

We are amazed how quickly the 2012 Spirit Awards tent has been raised. Only yesterday the ribs were erected with a few side tents clinging to the side of the low cliff that forms the boundary of the beach area. Today the tent is up and workers scurry in and out with wires, cables, boxes. The "laid-back" Spirit Awards are given for the best independent films and serve as an hors d'oeuvres  for the Academy Awards scheduled for next Sunday evening. All of LA has Oscar fever. For weeks the newspapers acclaimed each nominee's excellence in hopes that Academy members might cast a vote for their actor, director, writer, etc. In February LA is all about Image, Image, Image.

Getting back to our walk, we dodge the fierce bicycle riders and cross over to the walking path, dodging brainless skateboarders who don't care who they wipe out when they wipe out.  The air is cool with a hint of sea salt.  There is a mist covering the Palos Verde peninsula and the Malibu Hills.The sea plays host to several small sailboats. It looks as if some sort of regatta might be in progress. Two people soar above the water, held aloft by a yellow parachute that is tethered to a small power boat. A number of helicopters race along the shoreline while below the sea is as pacific as its name.

In the sand nearly all the volleyball nets are in use. We stop and sit awhile, watching the foursomes fight it out--the guys in tees and shorts, the girls in bikinis. Tents and umbrellas have been set out on the beach in expectation of family and friends gathering to enjoy the day.Dads are spending time with their children. Very few surfers use the Santa Monica area, the waves are much better elsewhere. Virtually no one is in the water. It is too cold; it's always too cold. Those '60s Gidget movies were never filmed in the ocean. The poor kids' would be sporting goose bumps larger than the polka-dots on their beachwear!

When we reach the end of our usual walking course, we climb a small hill and return through the park. There are a few benches and we often sit, watch the water, read our books and view the many dogs lucky enough to be given a walk along the shoreline. On a Saturday morning there are as many children in strollers as dogs on leads. Today there is plenty of entertainment to claim our attention. A group of 30 - to 55 - year old men are playing street hockey in the unused parking lot. My husband remarks that the game looks dangerous; I reply that that is the whole point.

We start back to our rental, stopping to purchase a Sunday paper. I like knowing the news before it happens. Saturday's a day to loll about and rest up. We will certainly miss the sun, sea, and our walks.