humor

November 13, 2012

Howls at Sunrise

First light on a spring morning at Griffith Park.

Last spring I started going for hikes at sunrise, on a trail at Griffith Park that provides spectacular views of Los Angeles. As a hike progressed I could watch the city lights fade and see the rising sun gleam in distant high-rise windows. The cliffs and chaparral in the Park were shadows that slowly grew more distinct in that golden light that only comes at dawn. I knew when the sun was about to crest the horizon because that is when so many birds began to sing.

Trail at Dawn

An empty trail just after sunrise.

These hikes quickly became my favorite pastime. I couldn’t convince friends or family that they were worth the excessively early rising, so I went by myself. I feel safe hiking solo at Griffith Park because I stick to the popular trails and there are always people around.   As spring headed for summer, dawn came earlier, and I started my hikes earlier to accommodate. I assumed that the other early hikers were also there for the sunrise. But apparently they were just – early hikers, and they didn’t keep adjusting arrival time to match the sunrise. One morning  I discovered I was the only one around.  No cars.  No other hikers.  No dogwalkers. No park guys doing clean up.

I started out and the view was beautiful but I didn’t enjoy it.  I became preoccupied with the darkness behind me and the hills full of critters that might be watching me. The darkness thinned but still no one else was around. I decided to return to my car until other humans materialized. As I headed back, with relief I saw a jogger approaching.  We exchanged the usual good mornings and then as he passed me he asked with gusto, “Did you hear me howl?”

I had not.

“Aw-wuh!” He was disappointed but fortunately he kept going. A few minutes later, I could hear human howls echoing from deep back in the hills. Probably  he was harmless but I greeted the next hikers I passed with considerable enthusiasm.

I decided the moral of this story should be go later or bring the dog and that is what I have done since.

November 10, 2012

Melodious Peach

Some of the most creative writing I’ve encountered appears in the names of paint colors. There is no Light Gray. Instead there is Pompeii Ruins or Evaporated.

Dark Red? Don’t be pedestrian. Instead expect Romantic Attachment or Can Can. Madder of Fact Red. Go a bit lighter and you come to River Rouge.

I might have called these Gray Blue:  Babbling Creek or Wind Blown or the (brilliant!)  Atmospheric Pressure.

I’ve got rooms done in Melodious Peach. Turns out that is recommended for pairing with Treaded Grapes or Composed Bloom.

What color would you expect Earthly Pleasure to be? How about Philosophically Speaking?

Paint color names can be evocative, stimulatiing, witty, sly. Perhaps their only limitation is that they stick to the light side of the emotional palette. I guess that makes sense. Hard to imagine someone wanting a room painted in Spiteful Orange or Narcissist’s Pearl.