Saying goodbye to my family home that I was born to and grew up in is difficult. Seeing Coyote Hill as one of the last hills not to be claimed by a house is rewarding and comforting to me.
On top of Coyote Hill one can almost see the whole San Fernando Valley. It is close to a 360-degree view.
The Verdugo Mountains, Warner Center, turning, Canoga Park, turning, Topanga Canyon, turning, the Santa Monica Mountains, turning and then back to Woodland Hills; then to the house where I grew up.
Climbing to the top of Coyote Hill was a natural workout depending on the time of year. In summer and autumn, it is mostly dry dirt. During winter towards spring the hill had all sorts of wild weeds, flowers, and herbs. My favorite time is when the tall green grass and the purple lupine grew. The worst time is the beautiful but dangerous wild purple thistle that tore up your legs or the fox tails that got caught in my socks.
How many times did I climb Coyote Hill to get away to the place where silence was reachable? I followed the peaceful breeze and experienced the free and wonderful cool blowing sounds of life.
Silence is a more peaceful feeling inside than the absence of sound. Coyote Hill supplied all the silence a growing child needed!
While walking or driving by in-car or on my bike, I have watched a few wild coyotes take the path up this hill. Once on the very tip-top one turned to look at me.
My mom’s dreams come true.
She told us about the dreams she had where houses would be built up all around our home. Houses cover the hills now, but not Coyote Hill. As kids, my friends and I would tear down the realtor for sale signs to stop the builders. We could not stop them.
In my dreams I see a big gazebo on Coyote Hill. A path climbs up to it and a path down the other side. It is a free place for anyone to experience wild silence. In my dream I interfere with the natural cycle and plant some native California plants mixed with lots of lavender, rosemary, and sage. I would also supply some sort of water source for the dry months of summer and autumn.
The Verdugo Mountains, image taken from my family home where I grew up.
“The Verdugo Mountains are a small, rugged mountain range of the Transverse Ranges system in Los Angeles County. Sometimes called “the Front Range,” the Verdugos are entirely surrounded by urban development. The Verdugo Mountains represent an isolated wildlife island.”
I felt my feet pivoting and then I was on my tip toes
Between dreaming and sleeping early this morning I saw Jupiter. The image was not from a telescope or from a remembered picture, or from a book. It is not like any other image I’ve seen before of Jupiter. I was close and looking down upon this planet and its amazing golden, creamy, reddish, and brown colors. I was at a remote distant viewing of Jupiter. My feelings awakened to Jupiter’s majesty.
I then whispered this to my husband as he kissed me before going to work,
“I am viewing Jupiter… ”
The door closed as he left and I fell back to sleep. I caught three scenes from a fast-moving dream play which is fading fast as I type. First I was with Sony again. A white mustang I had as a kid. I was riding and we were on our way to the Santa Monica mountains. The next scene I was about to dance. I looked at a young adult male who did not know how to dance. It was ballroom dancing. I took his hands and we proceeded to dance around the room. The room was full of music, laughter and we were moving fast. I felt my feet pivoting and then I was on my tip toes.
The last scene which was an irritating irradiance and flowing
The last scene which was an irritating irradiance and flowing theme of a guy on a bike with a black t-shirt pedaling fast. I tried to follow him but lost him in my fast-moving dream; because he was going in the opposite direction.
I awoke with my senses swirling within me and around me as a soft breeze; happy that I caught some dream memory and wondering what Jupiter was whispering to me, this God of Sky and thunder.