Thar She Blows

We will soon drag ourselves and most of our accumulated tchotchkes from the Mid West to the Unqualified West: specifically, the San Fernando Valley. My last three days were consumed by House Hunting in Woodland Hills, Tarzana, Encino, West Hills, Canoga Park and Winnetka. I enjoyed a brief respite Friday morning when the House Hunt changed into a Whale Hunt: the sight of a glittering waterspout in the distance made an Ahab out of me. A car, I soon discovered, had smacked into a fire hydrant at Fallbrook and Vanowen in (I think) West Hills, providing much merriment for the gawkers whom I quickly joined.

Apart from the winning of $22.30 during a layover in Vegas, this was the highlight of the trip. As a bonus for you, dear Reader, it helps me resist the temptation to bore you with pictures of all the properties on which I trespassed, our Realtor being unavailable to make my visits entirely okey-doke. Here, instead of my travails, is a refreshing moment of cooling spray for the (literally) hot Californians who had forded over-the-ankle water to admire the L.A. Fire Deparment’s struggle to stem the tide.

I only hope the hapless driver of the offending vehicle had as much fun when he abruptly woke from his mobile nap to find himself enveloped in a magical, sparkling fountain.

And from this chasm, with ceaseless turmoil seething, - As if this earth in fast thick pants were breathing, - A mighty fountain momently was forced...


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