It probably started when I lived here and felt like I was so far away from my family, it was a sin. Plus the weather was always perfect– which is probably a sin, too.
So whenever I come back to California, it’s like .. yay!!! I’m sinning!!Except that California is feeling a lot more like Armageddon these days. It hasn’t rained in about a year and when you land in Los Angeles, it’s as if you were landing in the Sahel. (And yes – I have landed in the Sahel.) It’s sobering and frightening.When Larry & I went out for a hike on the Jesusita Trail above Santa Barbara, we figured it might be a tad dry. So so beautiful – hawks soaring overhead and the lovely, aching smell of eucalyptus wafting down — but every arroyo was bone dry. The giant live oaks were as dignified as usual, but more than a few bore the scars of past fires. Shrubs had curled and crumpled under the relentless drought. Dust covered our feet.
Later that day at the Santa Monica Beach, I watched as people of every conceivable size, color, and ethnic background frolicked in the waves, kissed, staggered through the sand, and grabbed their slice of this American dream of which we’re all a part. It was a beautiful sight.