What grew to fruition is a life in which I work in movies six to nine months out of the year, and spend the rest of time hiking, writing, and involving myself in rescue in some way. While I don’t spend my summers in New England to work in theatre, I have a habit of “wintering in the Bay area” while on jobs. When I first came out to California, I stopped in San Francisco before Los Angeles and I immediately wanted to find a way to live there. Although I was never accepted no matter how many times I applied to Pixar, I have been blessed to get a number of gigs here. All told, somewhere around year and a half I’ve lived up here over the course of nine years. While I have never spent a summer here, this is my fourth winter.
With the mark of Spring Equinox, Tucker and I had to prepare for our inevitable return to our southern abode. I was not looking forward to leaving, but I felt it was time (and I couldn’t afford the rent any longer.) We had two weeks of hiking, writing, relaxing, talking to neighbors, going to the beach, and walking the quiet streets of our neighborhood. Los Angeles had closed their parks, beaches and trails, so returning home meant no longer being able to do that which we do. However, Tucker would have a whole yard to himself. Here, the patio offered no grass to roll in, and I was beginning to suspect he was getting nefarious messages from the dryer vent.
Funston on the weekend is always busy, but the cars lined up the highway from the bottom of the hill all the way past the entrance. I never park on the road since it’s a tad dangerous. Coming up to the drive that led to the entrance, I saw that the parking lot was closed. So I continued driving to Thornton Beach, but it being the weekend, the ten spaces were taken, and again, the cars lined the side of the road. So we kept driving south.
The previous weekend we had tried to go to to Wavecrest Open Space in Half Moon Bay which is down a dirt road behind a baseball field. However, because the field was closed, so was the parking lot. A few people managed to park along the road, but there were no spots left. I had thought there was a trail in from the neighborhood, so I drove back to the few streets lined with seaside bungalows. I was hesitant to park, and then came across an actual lot--at Poplar Beach. There were people everywhere. Throngs of them. It was like 4th of July.
Tucker and I were so happy to be out on open land again, acres from people, miles from crowds. We’re social, but enjoy our distance in nature.