Dreaming Of The Old Home

Do you ever think about where you used to live and have fond old memories? Why am I even asking, I KNOW you do. Anyway, I miss the old place and I want to write about it, so should you

I'm thinking of the old place in san diego. Not out in the city, but an hour our in the country. I really love the half muggy eather of the southern california coast. Nothing really compares to it. it reminds me of surfing and bermuda grass creeping out of cracked sidewalks. I'm thinking of the driveway on the old avocado ranch that is home to me more than anything in the world, even though I havn't lived there since I was six. The ash trees spilling little "fishes" on the brittle driveway curving down, and the some type of VW bus we've always had sitting at it's spot behind the tree. Ash trees are no good for climbing, the're too steep, neither are avocado trees. actaully it's bad for climbing altogether, but you can walk for miles up and down the country roads. But the best part is still the drive way curving down. And the couper's hawks you can hear all day and the owls you can't hear all night. And the coyotes barking and yipping. One of the most beautiful things I've ever seen is silvery moonlight filtering through avocado leaves. When you look up, you see green and silver, when you look down onto the brown fallen leaves, the moonlight looks like the shadows or waves, frozen in time, only moving when there's some wind. There's really nothing like it, to me it's the perfect paradise. Some things never change, no matter how much Josh