Few of us are lucky enough to watch the world (as we
know it) open up each morning and welcome in a brand-new day. A lot of folks
seem to be just happy seeing daylight and then pondering what the next
twenty-four hours might bring into their lives. I am very lucky. For me, life
begins anew here among the cactus, coyote, and early morning walkers.
Dawn in the desert is a very special time of day for a select few; human and animal alike. Not only for the beautiful sunrise that paints finger-thin rays of mustard yellow against the still sleeping mountains or the fleeting glimpses of coyotes on the golf course returning from their nocturnal hunt. The hours just before dawn seem to draw out an interesting assortment of characters intent on enjoying the cool of morning before the heat of the day. Sunrise opens the curtain on another day in the desert. The audience is sparse but appreciative.
Places that cater to the early risers are busy. A
tapestry of color dances over the mountain slopes, crevice’s, boulders, scrub
brush and gray-layered coat of dust and dirt.
The coffee shops are full. Hotel guests edge aside one
another for a place in the rising sun on the patio. Estate sale aficionados
clammer for a place at the head of the line to see what goodies lie inside the
condo for sale. Walkers, bikers, runners, joggers, and dog-walkers move softly
down the footpaths and sidewalks of the city.
For many others, it’s a quiet patio for solitary
pondering of the day’s upcoming activities and life itself. So goes each early
morning in this resort town. Palm Springs is a different kind of animal; always has
been. Unlike a lot of other communities, there aren’t as many commuters
clogging the highways and by-ways. A lot of folks like to sleep in or have
their coffee on the veranda overlooking the rising sun. It’s a
resort/retirement community and the residents take that moniker very seriously.
Most
resort communities sport the ubiquitous gated enclaves of look-alike signature
homes surrounding a golf course where every home has a swimming pool in the
backyard. Those enclaves of understated wealth are sprinkled with a flavoring
of casinos, fine dining, expensive shops and one-of-a-kind amenities meant to separate
the cake from the chaff. Palm Springs is all that but much more. Sometimes the ‘more’
isn’t quite what the Chamber of Commerce would like to promote. Yet that is
what separates this desert community from so many others.
Palm
Springs is unique not only because of its storied history; real and imagined. It’s
been around long enough to have grown old and stale then reborn many times
over. Through the decades it has attracted both the rich and the poor, the smart
and not so smart, the hip and those decidedly uncool and all manners of life form
in-between.
In
the past few years, Palm Springs got so dated that it became hip all over
again. What was once old like mid-century modern architecture is now all the
rage. Tired old motels have been revamped, remodeled, spruced up and now charge
ten dollars for a bottle of beer. (But wait, I’m dating myself.) Fifties
throw-away furniture fetches a fortune in design stories and replicas fare just
as well. Old is new again and thus hip for those born twenty-thirty years ago.
A traveler back in time like me can only smile and think about the untold
wealth we took to Goodwill way back when.
While
most resort communities follow the unwritten rule of retirement; sleep in,
coffee on the patio and face the day on the right side of dirt, natives on the
north end of the Coachella Valley are different. Early morning in Palm Springs
comes to mind as a perfect example of this.
In
Palm Springs it takes a lot to turn heads if you’ve been here for more than
three deep breaths. For example, there’s something decidedly unremarkable about
a hundred-and-fifty-thousand-dollar Bentley parked in front of McDonalds or the
elderly owner inside sipping his cheap cup of coffee-with refills. Or the
classic 1964 tan mustang convertible parked in front of True Value hardware. A
hipster arriving at our newest hotel in town ‘The Rowen’ wouldn’t turn an eye
with his vintage corvette.
The
older set is in the Saguaro swimming pool for exercise class before their
grandchildren’s generation has returned to bunk down. These women are an
accomplished lot who want to spend their time as they please. And frankly, they
don’t care what others might think about grandma and grandpa sipping their
first cup of Joe at the Casino or country club instead of squirreling their
children’s inheritance away.
For
me, the routine is always the same. Coffee on the patio, a quick breakfast and
then at my desk trying to create words, thoughts and ideas and assemble them on
the computer screen. I suppose I could retire and slow down like most seniors
my age but habit and hunger keep me working. I personally wouldn’t want it any
other way. It’s all part and parcel of life here in the desert for me and a lot
of other restless souls like myself.
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