I grew up wandering this coastal desert terrain,
forty miles north of downtown San Diego,
at the cross section of four corners -
Vista, Oceanside, Carlsbad and, even, San Marcos.
"Calavera" it has been called, for millenium,
by native peoples who envisioned a skull where
a 22-million-year-old volcanic plug sits.
As a child, I saw the effects of a people living on this land -
"illegally." Intuitively, I knew where these people came from,
where they went to during the day and why.
In my solitude, I understood this to be both
nature and nurture.
I grew up following my sister's lead,
tumbling to my heart's delight at the
local re-Creation Center, participating in
4-H, visiting the wildlife refuge in Dr. Farner's backyard,
and skipping along a dusk-lit, Main Street
where local farmer's drove
freshly-picked strawberries, oranges, avocadoes and more
down from their nearby agricultural fields.
I grew up sashaying and marching down these same city streets,
as my elementary-school boyfriends would throw popping fireworks
at my cartwheeling feet. I grew up surrounded by people
of all beliefs and dogmas, of all faiths, sizes, shapes, colors and cultures.
I grew up, here,
now.
Tumbling in ecstasy, over and over again, I joyfully navigated this
San Diego.
And, this, my friends, is how you spell LOCAL.
