The Essence of a Found Hometown

San Clemente, California.  A patriotic little enclave in Southern California which has captured my heart and nourishes my spirit in a way that no other place ever has.  Living here has been like coming home after wandering through, for much of my life.  When I think about finally arriving here via a very long and winding road beginning with my original birthplace of Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan, it feels as if we were meant to end up here, that we were somehow led here, and yet, it is a place that spent very little time on my radar during our first twenty-three years here in Southern California.  Mark and I have always lived with the feeling that we are being guided.  We always seem to end up in the right place at the right time.  And so, as we get ready to complete the packing and the moving from our Ladera house which has been home for almost twelve years, it is a good thing to know that we are not only moving, but coming home. 

This beach is known as T-Street.  It is very popular with locals and tourists, alike.  The beach is fairly flat and there are playgrounds for the children which makes it a fantastic spot for families.  We really like taking our pup, Micah, for walks along the San Clemente Beach Trail which spans approximately five miles long but allows you to pop on or off at various spots along the way.

I really enjoy bringing my camera with me whenever we go for a walk because the subjects down here are endless!

There is a restaurant at the foot of the pier that offers a gorgeous view of the Pacific and incredible sunsets.  Care to join me for lunch?

When this lifeguard came bounding down the pier with a very purposeful look in his eyes, I asked him how his day was going.  He told me that he was getting very tired because he had made nine rescues that day!  Sheesh!  I told him that he would sleep very well that night.

The older gentleman to the right was fishing with his son and grandson.  I noticed them because the grandson was being very sweet and gentle with his grandfather.

How incredibly lucky these two souls are to have each other.  Grandparents are extremely important in the lives of their grandchildren.  I see this relationship between my four daughters and their grandparents.  I have always encouraged my girls to spend time with their grandparents.  I have always said that my mother makes a much better grandmother than she ever did a mother.  I am very glad for that as my girls deserve to be treated like they are the most wonderful things since sliced challah;)

We are so lucky to be able to watch the flocks of Pelicans flying over our bluff during the summer months.  They are the most magnificent birds with huge wingspans and beautifully graceful flight.  This was the first time that we got to observe a Pelican up close.  He was hanging out at the end of the pier where people like to drop their fishing lines into the ocean.  It has become a learned behavior for them to beg for food but it is very important not to feed them because they are only supposed to eat certain things.  They are very good at pretending that they are starving to death so that someone will toss them a hand-out.  Quite an amazing adapted trait these birds have learned!  It is actually against the law to feed them but most people do not know that.  This guy just hung around staring at everyone with that "I'm cute and hungry" look in his eyes.  Stinker!

These bungalows are perched just above the beach overlooking the ocean.  I have never been inside of them, but I would imagine that the views alone, are the reason that people would stay here.

Some of the older architecture in our neighborhood is stunning.  I spotted this beautiful gate on this stucco home when Mark and I were taking Micah and Becca for a walk the other day.  There is always something wonderful to discover when we go out for walks;

Like the Neighborhood Watch for the Bird Sanctuary.

Or the constant color that makes San Clemente so vibrant and breathtaking.

Thank you for joining me on my little tour of this beautiful town.  It is definitely a place that is worth visiting and who knows?  Maybe, just maybe, you will find out that it is destined to end up being your hometown, too;)

I'm Just Wild About Harry and Harry's Wild About Me!

I ventured down to our neighborhood bookstore this afternoon, but I must divulge a secret.  It was not only reading that I had on my mind. While I absolutely love to read and I devour several books a month, I have an ulterior motive when I go into The Village Bookstore in San Clemente.  Yes, they have a wonderful assortment of books both new and used to peruse and yes, it is such a lovely treat to be able to shop in a real bookstore with dogeared classics and crisp new releases containing uncracked bindings.  But the real, real reason that I nonchalantly pop into this particular book shop is...Harry.  Harry is a giant puff of fur and attitude who can often be found sunning himself in the shop window.  On days when Harry is not immediately in sight, I browse through the stacks of impressive titles keeping my eye casually out for two things.  A fabulous read, and  Harry.  Today, I happily found both.

Here was Harry's reaction to my enthusiastic squeal of delight.

It began with this:

Morphed into this:

Segued into this:

And finally, in true cat-titude form, concluded with this: 

Don't you just love it when someone is genuinely excited to see you?  Me too!

I spent several moments visiting with Harry.  We had a lovely chat.  He recommended a couple of good books, struck another handsome pose and strutted away into the bookshelves.

And that is why I am wild about Harry.

I just finished reading Freedom by Jonathan Franzen which turned out to be a really good book and I am in need of another good story to whisk me away into other worlds, other lives, other perspectives.  I purchased Beloved by Toni Morrison and The Forgotten Garden by Kate Morton with no particular reason other than they both caught my eye and Harry thought I might find them interesting.  I chatted with the book shop's owner for several minutes about how difficult it is to raise children right now and how I think that today's generation of young people is growing up at a more difficult time than past generations.  She agreed.

I then made my way home to my kitties and dogs and Angel Daughters(well, only one today) and husband and put dinner in the oven.  And I thought about how nice it is to have a neighborhood bookstore that has a persnickety cat who is not at all embarrassed to show his true feelings and an owner who enjoys chatting for a bit.

Do you have a neighborhood shop that makes you happy?  How about books?  Are your reading anything interesting right now?  And about this generation of kids...Do you think it might be harder for them than it was for us?

And welcome to all of my new readers!  Please leave me a comment and let me know that you stopped by!  I appreciate all of my readers very much and love to hear from you.

San Clemente in October

Last week, the skies were filled with a blazing, golden heat which should only be reserved for the dog days of mid-summer.  The sun bore down upon us and the temperatures reached record breaking numbers as we were left to wonder where the fall had gone.

One of my favorite little Hummingbirds began buzzing around me as if to command me to refill his feeder.(Which I promptly did!)  And then he thanked me by lapping up the cherry red nectar with a thirst that seemed insatiable.

The ocean was clear and warm and mild.  Light breezes toyed gently with the sails on the sailboats.  Fresh Kelp beds(the dark areas out in the distance) thrived as the algae spores rose upwards toward the sunshine.

The beaches became crowded, once again, with people seeking relief from the unbearable heat.  They explored the numerous tide-pools on the lazy, heat-infused, autumn afternoons, momentarily forgetting about school and pumpkins and Halloween costumes.

The sun glistened off the surface of a surfboard, as people sought shelter beneath the comfort of a sole umbrella.  Content to be by the water on this misplaced summer day in early October.

The sweltering heat felt like it would never subside.  It hung in the air.  It surrounded our bodies.  It was stifling and stagnant.

Until suddenly, it was not.  Change blew in and the skies began to fill with fluffy, ethereal puffs of white clouds.

The heatwave broke.  Windsocks, flags and palm tree branches began dancing on the balmy, beach breezes.  The rain storms which would take place during the next several days, once again misplaced, were beginning to form.

And once again, the flocks of giant Pelicans remembered that it was time to go home.  They took flight against the grey skies in large numbers, their silhouettes creating beautiful patterns against the darkening clouds.

And as I watched them flying overhead, I once again remembered that I, too, am searching for home.  A home within myself.  A home to which I can fly, even in the absence of wings.  A home that includes my husband and my four Angel Daughters regardless of season, place or time.  A home that encompasses everything I need and not so much of what I don't.

And Love is What Remains

A couple of weeks ago, while the weather was still wintery in our sweet, little beach town of San Clemente, California, Angel Daughter Number Four called me from the pier to let me know that there was something that I needed to see.  She was quite insistent that what she was calling about was worth the outing.  She reminded me to bring my camera.  Mark and I hopped into the car and when we met up with our youngest, she was proudly standing in front of this temporary artwork.  Unfortunately, we had just missed the artist, but some of his work still remained, undisturbed.
AD4 explained to us that the man who had created these fleeting works of art, did so with nothing more than a broom, a dustpan and the sand which had been tracked up from the beach on the soles of people's shoes.  No stencils, no chalk, no cut-outs.  He calls himself the "Sandman at Play" and his medium is nothing but sand.
As we stood there in amazement, people went about their business taking little, if any, notice in the drawings that were just below their feet.  I found myself cringing as I watched one person after the next walk through these lovely designs.  But then I realized.  I realized that if the Sandman had become so adept at creating drawings out of nothing but the sand on the sidewalk and a broom, he meant for them to be temporary.  He knew that his work would be viewed only by those who were fortunate enough to be passing through at the time that he was creating his drawings.  His vanishing sand-sketches blending back in with the pavement, returning to what had been before he arrived.
How circular and beautifully crafted our lives truly are.  We begin from something that is seemingly not here, but then it is, and then we are...We move through our lives, artfully, connecting with others here, leaving our footprints there.  When it is time, we move on.  Yet there is always something we leave behind even if that something is no longer concretely tangible.  By being here, we changed something.  We touched someone.
The Sandman left this short message behind before he disappeared back into the crowd with his broom and his dustpan.  And it reminded me.  It made me realize that when things are done right, even after the artist has moved on, and his design returns back to its organic state, there is something of it that will always remain.  There is something of us which will always remain.  To me, that something is love.

And love can never be erased.