THANKSGIVING SUNSET

11-28-08, San Jose, CA

THANKSGIVING SUNSET,
11-27-08. Santa Cruz

It seemed to be a very long time from dawn to Thanksgiving dinner, but when we finally gathered at the beach to eat, to enjoy each other’s company, to laugh together, and to bask in the soft, sweet, fuzzy sunshine of Autumn at the California beach, the time flashed by so very quickly!

I recall eating a variety of foods, enjoying each unique flavor, and enjoying more the laughter that was muffled by a mouth full of wonderful food. Then someone directed my attention to the sunset. Red sun seemed to be racing for the softly curved horizon.

Out at the ocean’s edge, sun was a throbbing “cherry” as it shined through the smoke and smog gathered there in the distance. An old memory came to me and was captured like a spring salmon in a net.

When I was just a boy, long, long ago, our little tribe of cousins always had our pockets full of marbles. Among our marbles we always had our favorites. A heavier marble was the best “shooter” because it would scatter the marbles collected in the middle of the circle we drew, usually with a stick, and sometimes knock several marbles out of the circle that we added to our collections. “Steelies” (a big ball bearing) were too heavy for accuracy. If the shooter knocked a marble out of the circle it became his “keeper.” Once there was a magic red marble in the circle. We called red ones “cherries,” and they were rare. Finally, my turn to shoot came. I shot and hit the cherry pretty good, knocking it out of the circle. It was mine! I was so happy. From then on until I lost it to a dare (I did not jump off the bridge first because I really was “chicken”), I carried regular marbles in one pocket, but in the other pocket there was only one marble, my cherry.

Sometimes I held the cherry up to peer deeply into it while holding it near the sun. When the sun was maximum, the cherry was bright, bright, sparkling red. It was perfectly round and so pretty. It was a see-through. That “cherry” red is how the Thanksgiving sun appeared over there resting on the ocean’s curved horizon, a see-through. In a moment it slipped off and fell just beyond the edge, sinking into the waves.

Sun’s bright red now was just a wine-glow. In another moment the glow faded like the embers of the sleeping fire. Quickly we gathered things together and as the seagulls patrolled in the twilight, hurried to our homes, the vision of sunset yet warming the sweeter parts of our hearts, emotions, and memories; the “cherry” magic lingering.

Babe