The Essence of a Found Hometown

San Clemente, California.  A patriotic little enclave in Southern California which has captured my heart and nourishes my spirit in a way that no other place ever has.  Living here has been like coming home after wandering through, for much of my life.  When I think about finally arriving here via a very long and winding road beginning with my original birthplace of Mount Sinai Hospital in Manhattan, it feels as if we were meant to end up here, that we were somehow led here, and yet, it is a place that spent very little time on my radar during our first twenty-three years here in Southern California.  Mark and I have always lived with the feeling that we are being guided.  We always seem to end up in the right place at the right time.  And so, as we get ready to complete the packing and the moving from our Ladera house which has been home for almost twelve years, it is a good thing to know that we are not only moving, but coming home. 

This beach is known as T-Street.  It is very popular with locals and tourists, alike.  The beach is fairly flat and there are playgrounds for the children which makes it a fantastic spot for families.  We really like taking our pup, Micah, for walks along the San Clemente Beach Trail which spans approximately five miles long but allows you to pop on or off at various spots along the way.

I really enjoy bringing my camera with me whenever we go for a walk because the subjects down here are endless!

There is a restaurant at the foot of the pier that offers a gorgeous view of the Pacific and incredible sunsets.  Care to join me for lunch?

When this lifeguard came bounding down the pier with a very purposeful look in his eyes, I asked him how his day was going.  He told me that he was getting very tired because he had made nine rescues that day!  Sheesh!  I told him that he would sleep very well that night.

The older gentleman to the right was fishing with his son and grandson.  I noticed them because the grandson was being very sweet and gentle with his grandfather.

How incredibly lucky these two souls are to have each other.  Grandparents are extremely important in the lives of their grandchildren.  I see this relationship between my four daughters and their grandparents.  I have always encouraged my girls to spend time with their grandparents.  I have always said that my mother makes a much better grandmother than she ever did a mother.  I am very glad for that as my girls deserve to be treated like they are the most wonderful things since sliced challah;)

We are so lucky to be able to watch the flocks of Pelicans flying over our bluff during the summer months.  They are the most magnificent birds with huge wingspans and beautifully graceful flight.  This was the first time that we got to observe a Pelican up close.  He was hanging out at the end of the pier where people like to drop their fishing lines into the ocean.  It has become a learned behavior for them to beg for food but it is very important not to feed them because they are only supposed to eat certain things.  They are very good at pretending that they are starving to death so that someone will toss them a hand-out.  Quite an amazing adapted trait these birds have learned!  It is actually against the law to feed them but most people do not know that.  This guy just hung around staring at everyone with that "I'm cute and hungry" look in his eyes.  Stinker!

These bungalows are perched just above the beach overlooking the ocean.  I have never been inside of them, but I would imagine that the views alone, are the reason that people would stay here.

Some of the older architecture in our neighborhood is stunning.  I spotted this beautiful gate on this stucco home when Mark and I were taking Micah and Becca for a walk the other day.  There is always something wonderful to discover when we go out for walks;

Like the Neighborhood Watch for the Bird Sanctuary.

Or the constant color that makes San Clemente so vibrant and breathtaking.

Thank you for joining me on my little tour of this beautiful town.  It is definitely a place that is worth visiting and who knows?  Maybe, just maybe, you will find out that it is destined to end up being your hometown, too;)

Come Walk With Me

Each day, I am treated to several ever changing views of the San Clemente Pier but mostly from a couple of nautical miles away from my front yard.  The view is spectacular.  Yesterday, I had the sudden urge to change perspectives(a possible sign of things to come?) so I called Mark and invited him to take a stroll with me down on the pier.  The sun was still fairly high in the sky when we arrived and the well worn, sea-beaten wooden slats below our feet were pulsating with the vibrations of life being lived.  It felt so good to be out in the open air.

It felt good to be among a random group of people in which everyone seemed calm.  No set agenda, no pressure to maneuver beyond the ultimate speed of light and sound, only some moments spent doing nothing more than taking in a day that was much too beautiful to miss.  Lord knows how much I have craved this pace.  December took its toll on me.  It always does.  Repetitive music everywhere makes it very difficult to focus on anything other than jumpy rhythms and musical arrangements on speed.  For me, it is all overstimulation to the max.  To a body that is chronically riddled with pain, it is far too much to metabolize.  I spent a good portion of the month hibernating and staving off situational depression.  There are times when it is all too much and the very best thing that I can do is to be honest with myself and hide...

But yesterday was about reconnecting with the world in a more peaceful and tolerable way.  It was about taking on a reasonable pace.  It was about absorbing a different kind of energy.  It was about quieting the hermit-crab inside of my body(I am a Cancer baby, born in July when the world seems to be at its most relaxed) while sticking my head out of my shell to peek around and signal that it is really okay to come out.

And what better place to free myself from my self-imposed hibernation than the place that has become more home to me than anyplace else I have ever known in my entire life.  A place in which animal, fish, bird, and human can coexist most peacefully in unison with one another because we are all living by the rhythm of the sea.  A place that has beckoned to me from as far back as I can remember, only I could not make out the exact name of it until recently.  A place that will soon become our permanent home because I never want to be far away from here.  Yes, I am New York city born and raised and if you listen carefully and are very good with picking up dialects, you will quickly realize that I am a transplant.

But sometimes, the soul can lead you on a long and somewhat winding journey to your home.  And when you finally arrive there, you just know it.  You just know it.


May the coming year bring you closer to home and if you are already there, may it bring you even closer to your home.

Sunrise, Moonset

6:15 this morning.  That cold, familiar nose begins nudging gently at my outstretched hand(not Mark's) and I climb out of bed to let Becca outside so that we can both quickly retreat back into our beds, back into the warmth, back into the restful worlds of our dreams.  But just as I expect that I will barely have to open my eyes before snuggling securely back underneath the soft weight of my down comforter, I am startled into a sudden hyper-awareness by the mirrored beauty of the full moon as it reflects upon the water. I gasp out loud and the noise sounds as if it has come from someone else.  I consider keeping this moment of absolute sudden beauty to myself but my desire to share what I am witnessing gets the better of me and, as usual in moments like these, I reach for my camera to preserve.  I think about the idea that a moment does not become any less holy just because my second or third thought is to snap a few photographs of it and the next sound I hear is a soft, repetitive click, click, click.  I am now more inside of the moment than I was before and as I turn from the side of the horizon in which the moon was beginning to set, I am once again struck by that feeling of awe.

For behind me, over the San Clemente pier, the sun is slowly beginning its lazy ascent into the sky taking its time as if to gaze at the moon.  On one side, the moon finishing its glorious light show and on the other, the sun ushering in a brand new day.  Oh, the possibilities.  Oh, the colors!

Becca runs past me back into the house but I am no longer in a rush to close my eyes so I stand outside and watch as it happens all around me.  Moon, earth, and sun.  Everything feels as if it is perfectly aligned.

And as the colors begin to blend into one another, I take one more look at my world as it appears right at this moment at 6-something in the morning and I wonder to myself if I will ever be able to readjust my circadian rhythm to become a morning person.  No, I decide.  If four babies within six years was not permanently able to change it for me, then there is probably a very small possibility of it ever occurring in this lifetime and that is okay.  For there are wonders that happen on both sides of the day and more than likely, by witnessing one, the chance of being awake to witness the other is fairly unlikely.

As I make my way back to my bed, I stop to cradle Becca's sweet face in my hands and I kiss her firmly on the snout.  She looks at me as if the sun and the moon rise around me and I realize that to her at least, they do.  I have witnessed more than one incredibly magical moment this morning.

San Clemente in October

Last week, the skies were filled with a blazing, golden heat which should only be reserved for the dog days of mid-summer.  The sun bore down upon us and the temperatures reached record breaking numbers as we were left to wonder where the fall had gone.

One of my favorite little Hummingbirds began buzzing around me as if to command me to refill his feeder.(Which I promptly did!)  And then he thanked me by lapping up the cherry red nectar with a thirst that seemed insatiable.

The ocean was clear and warm and mild.  Light breezes toyed gently with the sails on the sailboats.  Fresh Kelp beds(the dark areas out in the distance) thrived as the algae spores rose upwards toward the sunshine.

The beaches became crowded, once again, with people seeking relief from the unbearable heat.  They explored the numerous tide-pools on the lazy, heat-infused, autumn afternoons, momentarily forgetting about school and pumpkins and Halloween costumes.

The sun glistened off the surface of a surfboard, as people sought shelter beneath the comfort of a sole umbrella.  Content to be by the water on this misplaced summer day in early October.

The sweltering heat felt like it would never subside.  It hung in the air.  It surrounded our bodies.  It was stifling and stagnant.

Until suddenly, it was not.  Change blew in and the skies began to fill with fluffy, ethereal puffs of white clouds.

The heatwave broke.  Windsocks, flags and palm tree branches began dancing on the balmy, beach breezes.  The rain storms which would take place during the next several days, once again misplaced, were beginning to form.

And once again, the flocks of giant Pelicans remembered that it was time to go home.  They took flight against the grey skies in large numbers, their silhouettes creating beautiful patterns against the darkening clouds.

And as I watched them flying overhead, I once again remembered that I, too, am searching for home.  A home within myself.  A home to which I can fly, even in the absence of wings.  A home that includes my husband and my four Angel Daughters regardless of season, place or time.  A home that encompasses everything I need and not so much of what I don't.

Merry Holidays

On Christmas Eve, Mark and I decided to take our pup, Micah, for a walk down by the pier.  The air was crisp and cool and there were just enough clouds in the sky to create the most sensational sunset.

This is Southern California.  One of the most beautiful places on earth.  When I spotted this adorable family celebrating Christmas right there on the sand, it made me smile.  This is just how we do things out here.  Sometimes irreverent, oftentimes laid back, but always, always unique.

Downtown San Clemente seemed to be floating against the cerulean blue sky.(Or maybe it was just my soul set free.)

The light show in the sky cast a purplish-pink hue down on the ocean.  Fantastically, I do not enhance my photos.  What you are seeing, is what you get.

My guys!

Merry Christmas, happy Chanukah, and most of all, have a very healthy, happy New year!  Can you believe that we are now a decade into the 2000's???

From our home to yours, may the coming year be filled with joy, love, inspiration and lots of good things.

I am so grateful to my wonderful readers, those of you who comment and those of you who just stop by. Each one of you inspires me to continue writing and to continue shooting pictures.  Just knowing that you are out there, whether sharing your lovely thoughts with me or just popping in quietly, makes me feel heard, supported and appreciated.  Thank you.