Day 7. A light haul today. Not to pat myself on the back but maybe just maybe this blog is doing some good. Maybe the people of Los Angeles are being a tad more careful when they pack up their cars…a little less callous of who they leave behind. At least, that’s what I was thinking until I saw that fancy four wheeled trike, with the custom seat and the fish horn….abandoned, alone in the fog.
Day 6. An equal number of singles and doubles today. The weather was hot and sunny so people put on their swim wear and sandals and came to the beach for a swim. Maybe they had some ice cream. Maybe they went for a walk. But when the sun set, they got into their cars and left…never again to think about their shoe or shoes, all alone and footless… left to stare at the sea. At least its nice weather.
Day 5. Pretty big haul today. Those expensive leather sandals were a surprise! And what was the deal on the two pairs, side-by-side, sitting on the wall? Did two people arrive together and BOTH forget their shoes, so very much in love were they? Or did someone find one pair, leave them out in case someone was looking for them, and then a little later someone ELSE find the other pair and put them next to the first pair to keep them company? And of course there were the socks….I know they don’t technically qualify. except in the biggest most poignant sense . Whatever that means.
Day four. A medium sized haul. The surfer bootie was a nice addition to the never ending pantheon of flip flops. I bet someone misses that shoe. But I gotta wonder: Does anyone else ever have the faintest memory of where their shoe(s) went?
Day three. Sunset : the loneliest time of day for the lost shoes of Zuma. All the feet and the legs got in to some car and went home. Poor poor lost and footless shoes alone in the dark. Does your mate even know that you have gone missing?
Every day I walk on Zuma Beach. And every single day, there they are: The lonely, lost and abandoned shoes of Zuma. Once the beloved members of someone’s family, the comfortable witnesses to countless happy moments, and now… for some reason the party has moved on without them. What can they do but keep their sad vigil by the sea…waiting, waiting for rescue by someone who will never return. Cry for them. The poor orphaned shoes of Zuma Beach.
