Watching the 30 mile per hour winds pushing through palm tree after palm tree here in Santa Monica. They are limber things, like gymnasts, bowing and bending. 60 feet up, the collection of their leafy crowns makes a noise like birds constantly taking to flight.
Big birds too. Leaves peel and fall like feathers and drift, albeit heavily, before spinning hard to the ground.
I have never ducked away from a palm branch before, but you can bet your ass I did today. Unashamedly running from their weighted wickedness. Every man for himself! Move it kid!
Wickepedia tells me that these palms are likely California Washingtonia. I can’t believe that they stay upright, but they do. Curving sometimes so perfectly that it is as if somebody very, very strong is pulling on the largest longbow imagineable.
In any event, California Washingtonia – I salute you!
My hastening away and screaming? That’s the way I show respect.
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