Haibun

A CALIFORNIA MEMORY

 A drive up Route 99 (now I-5), a portion of which is known as The Grapevine for its twists and curves. It is early morning in late July. Already hot at 8:00 a.m. The Bug’s water-cooled engine keeps chugging by stalled cars, the same cars which passed us earlier.

windows down

the swoosh of warm air 

muffles our laughter

We stop at Castaic Junction for coffee and donuts, then turn westward toward Santa Paula.  Avocado, walnut and citrus trees in neat rows, blossoms on some, fruit on others.

honey bees

working the orange groves

braceros in straw hats

We continue to climb and reach the crest overlooking the Ojai Valley, named by the Chumash Indians, meaning the Valley of the Moon.  Just before descending we find, tucked in between orange groves, a small Italian market and pizzeria.  We sit in the shade of olive trees and order pizza.  The patrone, an old Italian man from Sicily, upon learning that I am part Sicilian, joins us outside, carrying a bottle of home-made wine hidden in a towel because he has no liquor license.

Down below, in Ojai, the temperature is nearing 100 degrees.  We browse the shops, staying in the shade of the arcaded streets.  Continuing onward and upward, out of Ojai on route 378 to the Los Padres National Forest.  The ground parched and cracked.  Sage and manzanita more abundant.  Chaparral and scrub oak.  Posted in a low spot a sign:  SUBJECT TO FLASH FLOODS.

cerulean blue sky

looking up when we cross

a dried-up stream

We reach Lake-of-the-Woods, a developer’s dream in the 1930s which never materialized.  A man-made lake, never filled, and cottages, never built.  Now, just a sunken dust-blown area where the lake was intended. A small settlement with a few houses scattered here and there in the pines and up dirt roads.

Above Lake-of-the-Woods is the pine and oak studded Mt. Pinos, popular for skiing and hiking.  I gather pinecones to save for holiday decorations, needing to venture only a few steps in either direction to have a full bag.

sticky pine sap

suddenly I have

a green thumb

funneling dust

the fragrance of resin

on my clothes

We return down through Lake-of-the-Woods and eastward through Frazier Park back to highway 99, south down the Grapevine and home to Los Angeles.  

a cool shower

washing down the dust

with gin and tonic

Bottle Rockets