SoCal 2013: Chasing Gulls, Waxing Sentimental

I stood on a sandy shore in Malibu this weekend, my toes digging into the soft sand, and couldn't help thinking, hey man, my life is pretty groovy. Behind me, my best friend and her husband were enjoying the shallow waves crashing into the shore and J was running around terrorizing filming seagulls in slow motion.

We were all having the kind of day that is only possible when you make no plans and let the universe lead you from one serendipity to another.

We started out taking a casual stroll through Gardens of the World, where we found an extremely harried little squirrel trying to collect materials for the harshest and coldest of SoCal's 65 degree winters. Imri pointed out flowers and smells that we would otherwise have passed over, and I attempted to get my iPhone to bokeh, with some success.

We covered the gardens in a hearty twenty minute ramble and were left wanting more without having a clue as to where to go next. Dror threw out the possibility of checking out the Getty Villa in Malibu but all the time slots for the next four hours were already booked. Instead we thought we'd check out West Lake, rumored (by Dror's dad mostly) to be a hidden gem in the Westlake Village hills. Siri informed us that the lake was nearby and we drove to it, but we could only gawk at it from the safety of our vehicle because the man-made lake is surrounded by a private community in which you may not park just to access the lake. Thwarted, we decided to drive around the surrounding hills and canyons to find a hiking path to meander on. We did that for about a half hour, driving further and further up and into the windy canyon, until we were forced to give in to the fact that there were no public hiking paths on this road and that we might as well just continue driving until we hit the beach.

That's how I ended up wistfully wondering how in the world it was possible to have such a pleasant day in such ideal company while waves crashed at my ankles. It truly is a shame that this kind of day cannot ever be a regular occurrence. To bring the four of us together takes a 15 hour flight from Israel and a six hour drive to SoCal. Dror tries to make the flight at least once a year but it doesn't always happen; the last time we saw each other was October 2011. Imri usually stays in Israel unless a special occasion brings him to the States with Dror. Yet here we were, getting on as comfortably as family. This was J's first meeting with Dror and Imri and only my second time spending time with Imri, yet I felt like we'd all known each other forever.

The day ended all too soon but will be one I'll remember for a long time. Maybe it will be more special to me because it is such a rare occasion, but also I think it will be a glaring reminder that I am extremely lucky when it comes to meeting and keeping quality people in my life. Here's to many more rare days together, dear friends.