Life, with the garden
Location: Santa Barbara, California, USA • • • Visit: July 2012
One of the staff of the Santa Barbara hostel that mom and I stayed at had a dog that lived in the back yard, where the hostel guests also parked their cars. The dog was a rescue and extremely suspicious of strangers. He shied away when anyone tried to pat him. But in the evening, while sitting on the back porch getting some air before going to sleep, I tried some of my newly acquired natural horsemanship knowledge on him. The things Jay taught me at Time Out Farms, about body language, looks and intentions. And, believe it or not, the dog started walking toward me, one step at a time, until it finally stood there right in front of me and let me pet it on the head. Just then, the owner came out and was really surprised at how friendly we had become, me and her dog. She said that he usually didn’t approach strangers, that he mistrusted everyone except her and her boyfriend.
I did really learn some useful things during my wwoofing months. I can talk with horses now, and also communicate with mistrusting dogs.
Santa Barbara, as so many other older cities and towns in California (because nothing is actually old in California, except the trees), was founded as a Spanish mission. Today, it remains one of the few missions that are still in use. The place was crawling with tourists, just as everything else in Santa Barbara, but still it managed to convey a feeling of peace and reflection. There’s just something about these small gardens, surrounded by low buildings or stone walls. It’s like the outside world doesn’t exist anymore. It’s calming.
In one of the courtyards was the Moreton Bay Fig Tree. An amazing sight. It looks magic and wise, as if it could answer the questions about the mysteries of life, if you could only understand when it spoke. But to learn the language of trees would probably require time and patience. And maybe even a life in solitude, prayer and celibacy. I guess a mission is the perfect place for a tree like this to grow.
And after the fig tree, I think this structure, somewhere between a fountain and a pond, was my favorite. It was the first thing that met you, right in front of the main entrance, and the murky green water was filled with pink and white waterlilies. Like something from a fairytale.
… or the film Atonement, you know, the scene where James McAvoy and Keira Knightley are in a fight over a broken vase, Keira jumps into the fountain/pond/pool to get the broken piece of porcelain, steps out of the water all soaked and dripping, with the fabric of her dress so close to her body that she looks naked – and she storms off. James is left by the fountain/pond/pool, frustrated and lovesick. He leans down over the murky green water and puts his hand just above the surface, almost touching, as if being jealous, wanting to be part of the water that just moments ago got to embrace Keira.
I saw Atonement in the theater by myself back in 2007, and I cried. Now, so many years later, what I remember the most is that scene by the fountain/pond/pool. It might be the strongest, most expressive and touching films sequences I’ve ever seen. It is so beautiful, and so sad.
And, I tried to reenact the scene, sitting by on the stone edge, leaning out over the murky green water. But the photos didn’t turn out as I had pictured them at all. My mother is good at many things, but she is no photographer.
Katja Malmborg 