winter(verb): Scenic Overlook
Scenic Overlook
The greatest luxury of traveling alone is being able to stand in one place without worrying that your traveling companion is getting bored or is going to leave you behind.
Indulging in that luxury, I stood for about an hour at a scenic overlook in Santa Monica, admiring the Pacific Coast Highway and the coastline beyond it. I was taking photos of the colorful beach houses: slate blue, canary yellow, lavender, and rose pink facades.
“Are you a photographer?” a male voice behind me asked.
I was in no mood to be humored or interrogated or interrupted from my single-minded enjoyment of the view.
“No,” I said, not turning around.
“May I ask you something? I promise it’s not a boring question.”
I tried to anticipate his query: Are you single? Are you available for drinks later? Do you come here often?
“I guess,” I said.
“What legacy do you want to leave behind?”
I turned around to face him, wishing I could be him, seeing me against this backdrop that I so admired. I wanted to try the Pacific on for size, test myself as a character with Santa Monica as my setting. I almost asked if he could take my picture. Instead, I opened my mouth.
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