Of all the places I have been, never thought I would end up living my senior years so close to the place where I grew up. Walking around the block this morning I heard an air conditioner turn on. Yes, summer is here in the San Fernando Valley. A flash back took me to the sound of rocket engines being tested at Rocketdyne. It was scary to hear that sound as well as the pressure of jets breaking the sound barrier or the loud alarms that went off on Fridays. The end of the world science fiction days. Last month at Los Angeles City Hall I viewed an incredibly old image of the Mission on Sherman Way or the Hidden Chateau. Only fields were surrounding the old mission.
New apartments are being built near there now. So many apartments where wildflowers once grew. Now the streets are filled up with cars, cars, cars. Except for early Saturday and Sunday mornings when the streets become like they once were. When the fields were filled with wild rabbits we chased on our horses. Increasingly building apartments, without much thought, are going up everywhere. If I could put a hold and consider the congestion all of this is creating. Really?
Youthful friend Ruff and I once pulled down signs off the hills where we grew up. Thinking this would stop the hills from being covered with large houses smooched together. It did not help at all. My hometown still holds magic if you go looking for it. The clouds over Rocketdyne still shine with a weird hue. Yes, I did see it all, UFOs and beyond.
Wild Promethean fennel still grows in blocked off housing gardens built in the 1950s. If the plant is noticed and not destroyed with weed killer. The smell of the Santa Monica hills still spread a mist of longing for hikes. Even if only around the block. Hawks, owls, raccoons, and coyotes still come to visit. I hope I do not end up in the nursing home around the corner. Well, maybe that would be alright?