Twilight in Costa Mesa

Violet was the colour now, when just minutes ago it was the most beutiful golden array of setting rays-- the sun just off the pacific horizon. Espanol is all I hear within the houses on the block in which I live, and as I walk along the side walks the kids stumbling, run up to greet me.
Que Pasa Hesse? one says to me. Nada I say.
I contine to walk and can't help but feel the feeling. The arid tone to tonight's air which is usually moist. There is a stir in the air, a stir one which is yet still for the moment. It seems everyone feels it, yet nothing is said.
I am almost home, but I am drawn out to stay outdoors. Off goes my bag to the couch, open now are the french doors out to the stone cobbled patio. As I walk along the stone walled edge of the patio, the last glimmer of light on the horizon,gleams my eye, while my hand , rubbing up and down along the top edge reminds me of the pattern of waves I was surfing earlier that day along the jetties at 28th street in Newport Beach.
I look around the patio and it's adjacent garden and reflect on all the work that I did to have such a lovely site. Was it worth it? The patio and garden proves to be a sanctuary to me, so I believe it does work for me hushing the stir that is yet still for the moment.