Tuesday, November 22, 2011

It's time to find a new road.

The end of an era is crumbling away into the ocean in Southern California today.  An era?  Who's era?  My own.

Memories of my wild youth driving down a dark, ocean bluff road to park with boyfriends or sit quietly by myself and watch the moon hang low over the Pacific Ocean.  There were so many nights, more evenings than I can recall, when I drove my old white Chevy Monte Carlo up that bumpy road listening to my worn out Eagles or Fleetwood Mac tapes to just hang out on my own.  I would dream about my future or cry over injustices I believed I would never recover from.  Funny how those wrongs seem so insignificant today. 

Nothing ever stays the same.  Things change.  I know that; however, I've been reading these articles on the news for the last couple of days now with some melancholy.  To me, seeing these pictures is like watching a childhood fort being torn away or a treehouse crumble.  This was my fort, my treehouse, my road.  It held adventure, promise, excitement. 

I made love on this road.  I planned my life on this road and I once thought about dying on this road.  Perhaps this was my road of life as a young adult.  I guess it's time to find a new one...


Ahh...I remember this song ;)   Good times.  Thank you, my dear.  You know who you are.  This one is for you and our bluff.

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