This story is unavailable.

I think the good word is omnipresent! Much better connotation. And yes, I am very aware of the histories of where I’ve been. More SF and LA and NY stories to come. We used to mountain bike and fish in Malibu Creek State Park, right by where they filmed MASH (parts of the sets remained), and I can’t watch that program without feeling nostalgic for my coastal mountains. The park had become a home for lost homeless and very well-armed VietNam vets, who had camps back in the trees and hills along creeks far off the paths, where the public never went. And in the swimming hole amongst the huge boulders which we frequented, tiny fish would brush against our toes and occasionally take a little, gentle nibble which tickled rather than hurt. Unfortunately, I do realize now that most of the places I remember no longer exist except in my memories, and writing the stories has become even more urgent. There was another park down Encinal Canyon, situated on a high cliff hundreds of feet above the ocean, and one day I was lucky enough to see a beautiful military stealth plane flying below the place where I stood, just above the water. In that park there is also an abandoned homesite, complete with an empty swimming pool where the huge six-foot plus California timber rattlesnakes like to sun themselves on the tile surrounds, so relaxed and semi-hypnotized that they barely notice a human walking by. And driving up Kanan Dume road to where I turned left on Mulholland coming home from work, there was one of my very favorite road signs at a turnout — VIEW SIGHT (meant to be “site”). Here, besides the sign a few miles before you get to our house that claims “Dead End” there is another sign going to the nearest small town that says “Primitive Road. No Warning Signs.” Except that it is the warning sign … life be strange, yes?

Like what you read? Give Judy Ann Giorchino a round of applause.

From a quick cheer to a standing ovation, clap to show how much you enjoyed this story.