Yesterday I needed to put some finishing touches on a document that I had written for a client, and I drove to her home in Belair. Belair (for those that are not familiar with Los Angeles), is a neighborhood of magnificent mansions and elegant landscapes that one almost holds one’s breath in, as each property possesses its own regal presence, one after another and another.
I drove through Manderly-like gates that opened when they seem to know I was coming and I felt that I had entered a mysterious fantastic world. I was met by two greeters who ushered me into an astonishingly dark hallway that smelled of mold and cat….not happy cat.
Once my eyes adjusted to my surroundings I was awe-struck by the truth that was before me. The owners of this home were hoarders, and the animals that roamed about were not cared for.
I delivered what I needed to, drove over to the ocean and crossed paths with a trio of unhoused elderly men (hah! about my age!) who were lounging on a blanket having a picnic of sorts. One of them called me over as we have chatted before. They had been to church in the morning and were brain storming on what their plans for acquiring funds for the week were, in wildly humorous creative spirits and genuine warm camaraderie.
Appearances…realities….what we think and what is….all ever fascinating.