The Woolfs went over the mountain to see what they could see
When you got to the top and looked over there was a perfect view of San Francisco and the Golden Gate Bridge. Right below and across I-80 was Golden Gate Fields racetrack (I never went to the racetrack or hung out with shrimpy jockeys but Seabiscuit did and my high school graduating class had a few reunions there in the glass clubhouse.) It also provided a look at the original world headquarters of Jacuzzi and a great panoramic shot of THE ALBANY DUMP (capitalized out of great respect).
Looking at the other side of the hill from the racetrack
El Cerrito was an exciting place to grow up in the 50's and 60's. From the adobe clay that we dug up and made pots with or the close proximity to Berkeley and hanging out on Telegraph during it's heyday or the magical Sunset Cemetary that provided hours of fun for Hide and Seek, I called it home. It wasn't until I flew into John Wayne Airport from Sacramento last week and the security guard asked me where I was heading that I said, "I'm going home". I think it's the first time in all my moves and houses that I've actually felt that way since those days in El Cerrito. And I'm starting to figure it out. Geographically, in many ways, it feels the same in Dana Point. I'm not landlocked. When I need to find West I look towards the ocean. When I need to find East I look towards the hills. And when I need to find home, well I'm not looking anymore. I think I've found it.
2 comments:
You have no idea how much I love that you live where you live. It makes visiting you extra fun! Miss you! Can't wait till May!
Have you google earthed me yet Joyce? I've actually google earthed me here and my house on Sandpebble. And pretty much every where else I lived. I've even googled earthed places I want to go. I love modern technology! Hey, Brittany -- I want to see you too!
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