ballona

parking a short walk away from ballona creek bridge, i struggle to get out of my car with my purse and my camera bag wrapped around my neck. my clumsy button up shirt that keeps on unbuttoning by itself is doing its thing as usual and everything hanging off of me is moving in its own direction and accord. a gust of wind blows my scarf onto my face, my hair is in my mouth and i am uncertain why i decided to wear the tightest jeans i own.

i walk across to the passenger side of my car, take a deep breath and begin gathering my things. rustling through my bag, i unload unnecessary weight and decide to take my keys, my phone and my camera for the adventure down the creek.

the walk towards the bridge is calming, remembering the walks i used to take over the 55 freeway during high school. i would be out for hours on end, letting the quiet in my surrounding put me to ease. and sometimes, when in route, i'd stop at the bridge and see if i can catch a moment when there would be no cars along the long path of pavement beneath me. when that'd happened, i'd grin having caught that magic.

walking and focusing on something bigger than me would help simplify the more cacophonous particulars that seemed to be the tumbling noise of my thoughts. and as if my body recognizes this activity, i begin to engage in the rhythm of soaking in the site around me. i remember the pleasure i drew from enjoying the simple things in my surrounding, as i look out over ballona bridge and see the long stretch of the creek towards the coast. i am in awe of the expanse and everything begins to fall more and more into its right place. my scarf is flowing with the wind, my camera is in my hands and my breathing is steady.

the sun begins to set and i bask in the orange, dream-like hue enveloping the sky. this soothing coat begins to cover the buildings, the bridge, the streets, the cars and glistens the hair of other pedestrians also drinking in the glow of the coming evening. i walk down the pathway towards the creek and am thankful.