Los Angeles – Where the Circle Closes

Los Angeles – Where the Circle Closes

Prologue – Back

Some journeys don’t end at airports.

They end where they began.
In our case: Los Angeles.

The streets almost feel as if we had never left.
Everything is familiar.

And yet there is something in the air during these days – something we both recognize.

That quiet awareness that goodbye is already sitting at the table with us.

Arriving

As if we had never been away, Andrew’s little house at the back of the garden is waiting for us.

Andrew greets us warmly while trimming dry branches from his orange tree.

In the evening Lena stops by.

The certainty that goodbye is only a few days away hangs over everything like a weeping willow.

The Tree

Later Lena and I take one more walk around the block.

The air is warm, almost summery.
Hummingbirds are darting through the trees along the street, chirping softly.

We talk about all sorts of things – work, travel, the little things that seem important in everyday life but suddenly feel very small in moments like this.

In between, we fall silent.

Then we stop.

In front of us stands a tree we have both somehow never really noticed before.
Its trunk is covered with thick thorns, as if it had put on a small suit of armor.
Between the branches hang heavy green fruits, almost like small pumpkins.

“That tree must have been here forever,” Lena says.

She is probably right.

Sometimes you only start seeing things when you know you’ll soon have to leave again.

We look up into the branches for another moment, then continue walking – slower than before.

A tree we somehow overlooked all these years.

Saturday – Coffee, Cake and a Bit of Home

One more mani/pedi in Santa Monica.
A small ritual at the end of the trip.

In the afternoon Lena’s friend Laura comes by – we meet her for the first time.

There’s coffee and cake.

Laura laughs and says:
“That’s how you always know when Germans get together – there’s coffee and cake.”

She’s not entirely wrong.

Sunday – A Small Detour to India

It wouldn’t feel right without it.

One last visit to the Pacific.

On the way there we make a stop – at the largest Hindu temple in California.

The Malibu Hindu Temple sits in the Santa Monica Mountains near Calabasas, not far from Malibu.
It was built in 1981 and dedicated to the god Venkateswara. Designed in the South Indian temple style, it serves as an important religious and cultural center for Hindus in Southern California.

The complex consists of two temple sections: an upper temple dedicated to Venkateswara and a lower temple where Shiva is the main deity. Rituals and ceremonies take place here daily.

It’s incredible that we barely paid attention to this remarkable place all these years.

The white towers rise into the California sky, palm trees standing in front of them as if they had always belonged there.

Barefoot we walk through the courtyard, past carved figures and small shrines.

For a moment it feels as if we were back in India.

Only this time beneath the California sun.

Point Dume

Sunday at the beach means crowds.
And apparently Spring Break has started too.

We sit down on a rock in the shade, looking out at the ocean and watching the scene around us.

A group of college students runs laughing into the waves.
Spring Break.

For a moment everything feels so light, as if goodbyes didn’t exist.

Surfers.
Families.
Kids with sand between their toes.

When we get up to leave, I suddenly realize I’ve sat down with my brand-new jeans in a blob of tar.

A California souvenir, I think dryly.
That can only mean good luck.

Spring Break – and for a moment everything feels wonderfully light.

The Last Hours Together

In the afternoon Lena and James come by.

James has brought a gift for Reinhold: a miniature Porsche 911 Turbo.
The two of them had talked about cars so often during the past weeks.

James laughs and apologizes that he couldn’t find a Corvette – Reinhold’s absolute favorite car –
so a Porsche would have to do.

A sweet gesture for goodbye.

We order Chinese takeout and sit in the garden.

We talk about Sedona, show photos.

There is talking, laughter, and sometimes we simply sit quietly.

Goodbye is already sitting at the table with us.

“This time it feels especially hard,” Lena says at some point.

But we say that every time.

And every time it’s a little bit true.

A garden behind the house – and a few final hours together.

Epilogue – Almost Unnoticed

In the end there are no big scenes.

Just a few days in Los Angeles.
A garden behind the house.
Conversations growing quieter.

The Pacific keeps rolling in, as if nothing has happened.

And somewhere on a quiet street stands that tree we overlooked all those years.

Maybe that’s exactly what travel does:
suddenly you see things – just before you leave again.

Somewhere between the Pacific, the desert and familiar streets, a little bit of that California light stays with us.

This journey can also be read as one continuous story:
California Winter – A Journey Between Desert and Pacific