One of the most delightful scents that I know is that of chaparral after a rain. It is no surprise to anyone that California has been going through a drought…something that happens every decade or so. (While the average annual rainfall for Ojai is supposed to be 16 inches that just means that some…
All posts by drice
Signs
When I was I high school I stole signs. I am not sure why, but I thought that having lots of signs was cool. My room was decorated with random street signs, stop signs, yield signs, no parking /trespassing/smoking/swimming/nudity. My closet door sported the sign for the faculty room at St. Monica’s; my desk…
Beato
The artist, Beatrice Wood, died in March of 1998. She had just turned 105. For the last 20 years of her life she was my friend and I hers. From 1990-98 we were also next door neighbors. Her studio was about 100 feet up the hill from my bedroom and it was common for me…
Stand By Me
I will be 69 years old later this year and I have friends that I have known for 50-60 years. I do not imagine that it is entirely unique to have a childhood friend, but in my case, I have quite a few. I still know and occasionally see some of the guys I…
Jazz
I’ve tried to think about it, tried to figure out how a kid who grew up as I did could have learned to like, let alone love, jazz. It doesn’t make much sense. I can’t even imagine how I ever heard it. This should be one of those pieces where the guy tells about…
He pauses in his backcast
There is a river that flows out of the wilderness Cut deep through rock cliff Graveled broadly from the shore And I long to stand in it To wade and cast my line and know that my life is complete Cast in the comfort of the loves that I have known In those…
Landscapes
These familiar landscapes Worked and reworked in my mind These many years. So familiar That the truth of them has long since disappeared Melting gently into the way it was Fading into their own order. I was young once, I know My life populated by faces and voices Who did not then and still…
On this gray morning..
I rose on this cloudy morning and met my friend, Robert, in a nearly imperceptible drizzle at the Oso Trail head. There were no other cars in the lot. The river bottom was alive with its smells; the usual dust of the trail, a soft red; the tracks of animals strikingly more distinct: deer,…
Commencement
This morning I was walking up a trail above the valley, pondering the vagaries of retirement, and a forgotten moment came up for me, one that left me deeply missing the work that I did for many years. Like all schools, we ended the year with graduation, at HVS a tender and heartfelt event,…
In Praise of Dogs
I spend a lot of my time these days with our dog, Doc. Doc is a Golden Retriever. His full name is Dr. Teddy Benson, due to diverse views about naming him. He was Benson for a couple of days, but the kids wanted to call him Teddy. I prefer single syllable names for…