The Pratt trailhead is about .5 miles from my house. A rocky moderate climb of another .5 mile or so used to bring a morning hiker to a picnic table which was tucked under a small tree, where one could sit and enjoy a view of the Ojai Valley. It was a great place to…
All posts by drice
Your attention please…
A friend recently related that she had been hiking and felt the hair stand up on her neck. She left the trail, but later learned that there was a mountain lion in the area. Last spring, another friend had a similar experience…knowing that something/someone was watching…but this time she saw the lion as she…
Brian
I grew up in a family of three sisters, but I once had a brother. Brian was eight months older than I… my first cousin actually, son of my Mom’s sister, Greta. When we were just old enough to develop memories, Brian was there, living across the court in one of those one-story, U-shaped California…
Got Shoes?
I seem to have a hard time throwing away old shoes. I suppose that this is partially due to the fact that I buy sturdy shoes, ones I can hike in or in which I can at least walk comfortably, so their achievement of retirement age is not readily recognized. I have to admit that…
Tipping Points
Have you ever had your life change due to some relatively insignificant experience…a trivial moment? I am not referring to dramatic events like the birth of a child, the death of a parent or friend; I am not even thinking of the “what if” moments of getting into this car rather than that, that…
The Dream
My dream is dominated by voices. A steady hum punctuated by the lilting rise and fall of Irish brogue. All familiar, yet faceless and nameless, just voices from another room that the child hears from his bed. Lying still in the semi-darkness, eyes fixed on the streak of light and shadows funneled across the…
Covers
I miss album covers. For that matter, I miss paperback art as well. The fifties, damned for so many things, were a heyday for the paperback industry and a heyday for artists who could conceptualize a story on a book jacket. Of course, there were the bodice ripping covers, muscular men and swooning or terrified…
Sorrento
On the Pacific Coast Highway, along the stretch that reaches north from the pier, an apartment house was built in the early 70’s, near the foot of the Santa Monica ramp. The name on the front read “The Sorrento Beach Grill”, in a quiet nod to history that only locals would understand. The building stood…
Rods
My first fly rod came to me by accident. A student, my memory calls him Jim, departed the school and left it behind. He was a memorable boy for his habitual intensity. So much so that others gave him a rather wide berth in the school. Yet, I recall him best for the night he…
On the stream
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 who have…