Postcards from California Day Two: Sunburned Legs

My legs are sunburned because I sat in a chair at the top of the driveway like an old lady visiting California from some Midwestern state. I read a book there and then I had a conversation with my granddaughter and then with my son-in-law and then with my daughter and after a while I noticed that my legs were hot but I didn’t mind because of the book and the company and this view.

In the morning, before it got hot, I went for a walk along the harbor in downtown San Diego. It was early in the day so the few tourists were lining up to go on the harbor tour boats while runners without shirts clipped by, holding their masks in their hands. Two men were unloading a van full of music equipment across the wide sidewalk from a homeless man with matted gray hair studying a wound on his bare foot.

I love this walk in the shadow of the U.S.S. Midway. This time I stopped to read all the historical plaques, the ships sunk, the men lost, one ship had been at sea less than six months before it was lost in battle. I learned from the plaques the meaning of a battle star, a real thing, not the colloquial thing.

The Midway is huge and majestic, its flight deck packed with planes and helicopters. I am not a military person but I am oddly, perhaps, very patriotic, so I am always moved by seeing the Midway even though I’ve seen it many times. And always made a bit joyful by the giant statue of the sailor kissing the nurse on V-J Day. Some would say I am easy to impress and they would be right.

On my way back to the car, the man who had been examining his foot had put his boot back on. I caught his eye and said good morning but he looked past me, probably not hearing what I said. Still, I was glad I said something because I don’t always want to but if it was me sitting on the bench, I’d want someone to say hey to me.