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The Gold Coast

11/23/2012

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The brilliant hues of California's Lake Chumash in late afternoon.
    I spent the day touring the Santa Maria valley. More of the golden hills familiar along the Pacific coast. I am quite fond of the grasping, gnarled trees prevalent in this area. I love to take photographs of them, dark against a bright blue sky. The contrast of the blue and the black together are exhilarating. There is something dark and sinister about their shadows and their shapes. There isn't much as far as population in these hills: there are quite a few ranches, but the actual number of livestock seemed sparse. In several areas, cows grazed lazily on the coarse grasses, the stalks seeming thirsty and brittle. In some cases, there were horses, manes flying behind them as they thundered through the fields.

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I found a park on Old Dominion Road, but the entrance I found seemed permanently locked according to the display map. I could not find the public entrance, though I was sure there was one. The area was an open recreation point with trails for hiking and horseback riding. I had lunch at a restaurant in Old Orcutt called Jack's where the albacore tuna melt was laden with avocado and Swiss cheese. They served me some tasty watermelon: perfect for the warm weather. Later, I walked Old Orcutt (not a very long walk) and had a scoop of Dreyer's birthday cake icecream.

"To the inhabitant of Orcutt, the wind is a constant warning: always shifting direction...though each life never seems to deviate at all."
Orcutt is a city afraid of flight. The houses and buildings are as low to the ground as they can possibly be crafted. No aircraft cut through the sky and even the birds are only shadows that fly along the ground. All of the trees are low-lying compared to the trees of elsewhere. The inhabitant travels the same path daily-- from his place of employment to his home-- without even looking up at the fearsome blue sky. To the inhabitant of Orcutt, the wind is a constant warning: always shifting direction... though each life never seems to deviate at all. From their constant earth-gazing, the inhabitants have stooped backs. Even their religions (which should urge them to look heavenward) only allow them to do so while on their knees. Does this prevent them from falling into the sky if they should look up?

 
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An antique car parks in front of Jack's Restaurant in Old Orcutt.
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A windmill graces a golden field on the California coast.
  A new city has sprung up around the old city. The junipers are like columns keeping the sky from collapsing on the unassuming houses. The city is in a valley between three lines of distant hills: hills dotted with green and gold and dark, shadowed clouds. Hills at a safe enough distance so as not to frighten the city.
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Agriculture and industry on San Antonio Road.
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The golden hills of California's Gold Coast.
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    H.K. Rainey

    Author of "Memory House" and a fiction writer who is currently at work on a fantasy novel about the battle for the human soul.

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