Saturday the boyf and I took his car "that can not be named" up to Ojai for a daytrip. We bopped around the town, got a late breakfast and then I suggested we explore highway 33 north through the Los Padres Forest. The tires squeeled around the turns (which the boyf was taking at double the recommended speed) and I gripped the armhold on the door and wished for five point harnesses.
My face was a complete grin and there were no other cars (or motorcycles) in sight. Just magestic purple mountains, rocks and meadows. It reminded me how beautiful California is. There is really no other place on earth - and here we were - a mere 3 hours north of one of the biggest metropolis' in the northern hemisphere. Which made me all weepy for LA.
June gloom and Jacarandas remind me of my first month in LA. I knew the anniversary was coming up when the purple flowers started mucking up the sidewalks on the morning dogwalk. I watched the pair of Jacarandas - over 3 stories high - bloom and make a psychedelic canvas on the rich green grass. First week in June. Five years ago I left San Francisco and arrived in a Venice bungalow. I've spent another year in this city. It's five now. Five years in LA and no sign of leaving.