The Vista Del Mar Chronicles

Chica, Lemons, Ganesha & Sugar?

Just before sunrise I heard Chica nudge the bedroom door open and leap onto the bed. She made her way towards my face, quietly checking to see if I was awake. No pawing. No insistence. She simply tucked herself under my chin, baby spooned against me, sighed deeply, and settled in.

We lay there together drifting in and out of sleep as the room shifted from charcoal to blue-grey to the soft warmth of morning.

I hugged her gently.
“Are you hungry?” I whispered.

Under a long yawn she replied, “Always.”

We rose slowly. Chica stretched into the perfect downward dog accompanied by another wide mouth yawn, “great lion asana” I giggled as I reached my arms overhead, swayed side to side, folded forward, and rolled up again. Slow, no urgency, no need for the mat… Just the quiet stretches of waking.

When I slid the glass door open, Chica sprinted into the yard to greet the day. I followed, making my way towards the lemon tree.

“Wow,” I said, inhaling deeply. “You smell wonderful.”

Low, full, and lush, the tree shivered like a dog shaking off morning dew, sprinkling me lightly. Then, as if amused, she extended a branch heavy with perfect lemons.

“Take your pick,” she seemed to say.

I chose one carefully, thanking her for her generosity. The citrus perfume filled my nostrils as I wandered about barefoot through the damp grass. My new crop of hair tousled by the breeze. Chica zipping past me with a tennis ball, wagging her nub and butt, inviting me to play.

We chased balls around the yard, herding, kicking, tossing. It’s a two-ball game with Chica – one in her mouth, one in motion. We laughed as our blood warmed and the morning fully arrived.

Steam from the heated pool drifted into the air, an invitation I didn’t resist. I slid off my long t-shirt and stepped into the water, always surprised by its warmth. No cold shock. No tentative toe dipping. Just a warm welcome.

Carrying the lemon with me, “Ahhh so”, I heard Ram Dass whisper in my heart, as I paused at the statue of Ganesha in Scorpion pose. With a soft pranam, I placed the fruit at his feet. Then I pulled on my flippers and goggles and began the ritual I’ve kept since returning to California… a slow sunrise swim.

I moved through the length of the pool, diving, gliding, occasionally tossing Chica’s ball back to her from the water’s edge. Floating on my back, I studied the sky. Each morning a slightly different blue, as if God were testing color palettes before committing to the day’s full canvas.

It was while considering which shade might suit my next painting that I noticed something shift.

At first I thought it was Chica moving behind me. But no.

The heavy grey stone of Ganesha stirred.

With surprising grace, he released himself from Scorpion pose and folded deeply forward into Uttanasana. Slowly he rolled up into a mountain stance taller than before, reaching his trunk skyward in a long stretch.

Then he brought his hands to Anjali mudra and trumpeted – loudly.

He bowed.

“I needed that stretch,” he said with deep laughter. “I’ve been a Scorpion for quite a while.”

The stone of his body softened into living elephant grey. Wrinkles deepened and moved. His gold crown caught the light, rubies blazing. His round belly jiggled when he laughed, and the snake belt around his waist shimmered, waking from its own nap.

Before I could fully process what was happening, he stepped into the pool.

He dove with surprising agility, trunk extended before him. A moment later something wrapped gently around my ankle and pulled me under.

We surfaced together, me startled, him laughing like a schoolboy.

His laughter dissolved my fear.

“It is good to see you again,” he said, eyes warm. “To see you happy, healthy, and gentle.”

I bowed instinctively, taking his offered hand – thick, human, strong.

Around us, the garden stirred. Palm trees leaned in closer. Birds of paradise seemed to gather closer. Roses and Jasmine perfumed the air as if on cue. Even the mermaid statue appeared to hover slightly above the ground, as if treading invisible currents.

One by one, the plants and statuary gathered at the pool’s edge and bowed in quiet reverence.

Chica burst through the foliage, barking with delight, and without hesitation leapt into the water toward Ganesha as if greeting a long lost friend. He scooped her up effortlessly, trunk and hands petting her while she wiggled with joy.

“Hello, old friend,” he said.

They laughed together.

I stepped from the pool, pulled my t-shirt over me as Ganesha rose taller – no longer three feet of garden sculpture but nearly seven feet of vibrant, jeweled presence. Water streamed from him as he placed Chica gently on the ground. They both shook themselves dry, watering the garden… and me with what felt like my second baptism of the morning.

Ganesha turned toward the gathering and greeted each being with patient delight. Colors deepened. Birds landed along his arms and crown.

Then he looked at me and winked.

“Now we have a party.”

“Leora,” he said, “are you going to stand there wide-eyed all day, or shall we sit and have a cup of chai?”

He gestured toward the shaded cabana where, somehow, a table had appeared… sweets arranged neatly, colorful stoneware gleaming, steam rising from a fresh pot of chai.

I sat across from him, still damp, still astonished.

And there, just above the bridge of his trunk, I noticed a saffron colored OM glowing softly at the center of his brow. His eyes twinkled as he reached over and poured me a cup of chai, his trunk delicately holding a small wooden spoon…

“Sugar?” he asked, as if this were the most natural question in the world.

As he stirred sugar into my cup, he looked at me more seriously, crossing his legs into Padmasana.

“So,” he said gently, “where do you want to go from here?”

The steam rose between us.

I closed my eyes.