Santa Monica is a visual, olfactory, spiritual paradise.
Views of mountains, shorelines.
Aromas of lavender, rosemary.
Ocean breezes, salt air.
But the magnet for me are three Benjamin boys.
In the house on 14th and Montana.
Who light up a room, a street, a beach.
With smiles, exuberance, antics.
Pretending, inventing, tasting new foods.
Making cookies with their bodies.
Rising on toes as they mash the butter.
Toss the sugar.
Pour the flour.
Fingers shape the mass into a ball.
Press it flat.
To use five cutters.
But, three fall to the floor.
Roll out of reach under a cabinet.
No matter.
They dip into sprinkles.
Push a chocolate chip into each.
Agree to eat penne and pesto.
Till the buzzer signals time for the sweet treat.
To exit the oven.
Admiring the handiwork,
each surveys, chooses his own.
Grandchildren amaze.
Each motion, milestone.
Lynn Benjamin
March 21, 2023
