Solvang and Buellton

Clouds creeping over the mountains from Flying Flags Resort.

From Ojai, we traveled up US 101, moving away from the coast and into wine country.  We wanted to stay at a campground near the beach, but $60 a night was way over budget.  But we were happy with the place we DID find in Buellton, California.  (Be-yule-ton).

Flying Flags RV Resort was affordable (I think it was something like $38 or less), and proved to be a very beautiful resort.  Well-maintained, they had a pool, jacuzzi, movie lending library, shower houses.  They are perched on a slight hill that looks down onto the highway (though you can't see it), and up toward the coastal range of mountains.  Clouds ooze up from the Pacific and creep over the mountain tops where they slink down into the Santa Ynez Valley. 

I was booked into the Mystic Merchant in Solvang--a quaint little town built by Danish settlers in the early 20th Century.  All the buildings are of Danish architecture, very picturesque.  It reminded me of Bishop Hill, a similar community built by Swedish immigrants in Illinois.

The Mystic Merchant in Solvang, CA.

We stayed a week there in Buellton--just a couple of miles from Solvang.  This gave us time to rest and de-stress from the madness of southern California traffic.  I had underestimated the ferocity of drivers and the sheer volume of cars in the greater Los Angeles area.  Between the traffic and the climbs and plunges of altitude, I was a nervous wreck.  It felt good to get some down time.

While we were there, we visited Monty Roberts' ("The Horse Whisperer") ranch and an ostrich farm for fun.  If one wanted to live near southern California and still be in a peaceful area, Solvang / Buellton would be a good place to look.  But for us, it was not the destination we were seeking.

Flag is Up Farms, Monty and Pat Roberts, Buellton, CA.

Ostrich riding at Buellton.

Rick makes a poor Arabian princess!

Ostrich Land USA was fun, except it was raining that day, so the ostriches were all muddy.  They are preternatural creatures, moving with a languid, fluid movement that reminded me of small dinosaurs.  They seem prehistoric and a little menacing, but fascinating.

The sign reads: "Yes, we like to bite!" Yikes.

Directly behind Flying Flags Resort is the Windmill Days Inn Motel featured in the movie "Sideways."  In fact the entire movie is set in this area, so it was fun to watch it while we were there.

Some more pictures from our stay here.

Solvang architecture.

Solvang clock tower.

A different kind of windmill along the highway between Solvang and Buellton.

Always, those amazing clouds bringing much-needed rain.

Vintage trailer row at Flying Flags--no age restriction here!

Curling up by the "fire" in the Flying Flags Clubhouse.

Simi Valley, Ojai and Some Nice Photos

I appeared to do readings at Salem Magic in Simi Valley.  Everyone there was very nice and happy to have me and I did well.  I love days like these--doing readings in a welcoming atmosphere with joyful people and clients who are genuinely interested in their own spiritual development.  This is one of the things in my life that makes me truly happy.  Thanks to everyone at Salem Magic!

It is always fun to see my name "on the marquis!"

We spent the night at Tapo Canyon before moving on to Ojai.

Our rig at Tapo Canyon campground.

Sunset in Tapo Canyon

Ojai is a wonderful, magical place, and I could feel the shift in consciousness as we drove up there.  I began to get impressions even before we arrived that later turned out to belong to a very specific client.  I recognized these impressions and bodily feelings as not belonging to me and I wrote them down to find their owner later.

We camped at Camp Comfort--an historically significant point in that area. I was told that Ojai was a cluster of female vortexes, like Sedona's vortexes are male.  The vortex phenomena of whirling energy was clear in the vegetation around Camp Comfort and,in fact, all over the Ojai area.

Vortexes can be detected by looking at local vegetation.  Trees, shrubs and other growing things tend to make unusual shapes or twist in abnormal ways.  

This fallen log shows vortex deformation.

The vortex influence is evident in the trunk of this tree--there were many like it.

This may look like an animal den or human-engineered, but the bamboo all around the campground had grown into these swirling shelters.

Sycamores usually grow straight up, but these had grown over in a circle to embrace one another.  I called them a couple because they looked like they were in love.

The Ojai bookstore was just wonderful.  They had a geodesic dome behind the bookstore where I could do readings and it, too, was a truly sacred space.

Soul Centered in Ojai

Readings in the Geodesic Dome

The entire property where Soul Centered resides is a sacred piece of land.  I was told it, too, was in a vortex.  There are many beautiful things all around the place.

Here are a couple more pics of the sweetheart sycamores...

And here are some photos I really liked but had no direct place in the narrative:

Palm trees in Jamul.

Sunset at Jamul.

Cherry blossoms in Ojai.

Cell tower in disguise.

Graceful pines of some sort. 

Feet

Long Time, No Write and Winnetka

First I want to apologize to my devoted followers for not posting in six weeks!  I cannot believe how the time got away from me.

We have safely landed in Eugene, Oregon and I have a lot to share.  I also have tons of photos taken since San Diego and will try to faithfully reconstruct our California travels.

I want to mention that I am no longer using the Earthlink email.  My new email is cattfoy@gmail.com.

As promised I will begin with our visits to Winnetka, Simi Valley and Ojai.

We were welcomed warmly by Renee and Luther at their home and sacred space in the Winnetka neighborhood of Los Angeles.  Affectionately named The Winnetka Tower, they have created a very special energy in their home where they often host pagan gatherings and ceremonies.

The Winnetka Tower

When they remodeled after the Northridge earthquake, they added this lovely tower.  The house itself is warm, inviting, grounded.  I took many pictures--too many to share them all here, but I will offer a few to give you an idea.

Ceremonial area at Winnetka Tower

Rick at Winnetka Tower

 Everywhere there are little touches of whimsy, magick, and beauty. From exterior lights to the darkest corner of the breezeway, Renee and Luther have made, placed or added objects from nature, antiques, and fun little surprises.

 Renee was a dancer in her youth--dancing with the Grateful Dead and other famous Berkeley bands. An infinitely interesting woman, she calls herself a "hedge witch," was an actual attendee at Woodstock and now teaches educational psychology at LA area colleges.

Faeries, angels, witches, green men, goddesses and touches of nature abound.  Every corner is a pocket of visual interest. 

Being there for a week was educational, both intellectually, historically, and spiritually.  The first day we were in Winnetka, Renee gave me a tour of the common areas of the house.  It was beautiful, filled with light and glass and wood and art.  It was earthy, magickal, cottage-like. As I drank in the delightful details, I realized that I was viewing this perfect home, not with envy, but with joy.

There was a time when such beauty and a deep sense of home would have filled me with an unrequited longing, a yearning and frustration because such a place felt denied to me. 

But magically, that old spell was broken and I could look upon her home with a sense of joy and a feeling of equality--I know now that I, too, will have a home again, a home like this one, filled with treasures, comfortable and convivial, a place of peace and ceremony and safety and Spirit.  And I know I am (we are) now making a new life, the life I was meant to have. 

While there, we visited Simi Valley and Ojai and scheduled events in both locations.  I also went to visit my old friend (soul sister) and "evil" twin, Leah Santos.  Sadly, she is having a tough time of it, reduced to living in a rundown little retirement home in a semi-industrial neighborhood.  She looked so sad and old, but we had a nice visit and I gave her a good pep talk.  Leah has given me so much over the years by believing in me and boosting my self-confidence in many things.  She is the person who got me into my first psychic fair and the recording artist with whom I sang backup.  (Cold Shott and the Hurricane Horns' Full Circle album.)

Leah is a psychic, astrologer, palmist, and blues singer extraordinaire.  She holds five gold records for her musical work in the 70s, sang backup with Ike and Tina Turner, has an IQ of something like 160, and is a high-energy dynamo.  She has also wrestled with drug and alcohol issues for years and some of us who love her best think she is likely bipolar.  But I pray for her, and send her my love and blessings and hope she will once again be able to rise above her current difficulties. 

There were others I wanted to connect with in LA, but was unable to contact them.  I think perhaps at least one of them has passed on or suffered from some debilitating illness that prevents them from posting on Facebook or answering emails.  I send my prayers to them too, whether still here in body or passed beyond.  It feels like a theme of leaving many folks I have known and loved behind in the past, as I move toward my future.

Leah Santos

Up Next:  Simi Valley and Ojai.

Getting caught up

I realize that I haven't posted since we entered the San Diego/Los Angeles area.

So, here is a brief recap with pictures of part of our adventure in the past three weeks.

We visited Yuma Territorial Prison.  Do I look sufficiently criminal?

OK, but Rick clearly needs to be locked up, eh?

I captured this image of the lettuce pickers behind our RV park in Winterhaven.

We drove past wind farms (and high wind advisories!) entering the Laguna Mountains at Coyote Wells.  Did not like the energy in the Laguna Mountains.  Lots of dark magic there.  We spent the next three days incommunicado (no cell, wifi, or TV) in Jamul at Diamond Jack's.

The sunset view from Diamond Jack's

We drove ungodly distances to visit bookstores in the San Diego area, but finally made our way to the Pacific Ocean!

It was a stormy day, but we saw this couple dancing on the beach.  Very romantic.

It was a real joy to enter a long-term bookstore customer and find MY book on their shelf!

NEXT ENTRY:  Winnetka, Simi Valley, and Ojai.

California as Oz

When I was growing up, California—and especially the Los Angeles area—was a mythical land.  To me, California was Oz.  It never seemed like a real place.  Instead it was the place of television and movies. So was New York, but unlike New York, which also seemed glamorous, California was like a made-up place, a fairy tale. New York was gritty and real—I’d actually been to New York.

I remember the first time I flew into LA—my first visit to California in 1987.  It was an evening flight out of Phoenix Sky Harbor International Airport.  As my plane chased the setting sun toward the Pacific Ocean, racing against the motion of the turning earth below us, I watched the land below me moving in the twilight.  Phoenix was a long string of lights; the Valley of the Sun was even back then a nearly 80 mile east-to-west stretch of development.

Further west and the light and the lights diminished rapidly until one could see two things:  the illuminated ribbon of the cars beneath us on Interstate 10—red on one side, white on the other—and a line of demarcation on the southern horizon where the lights seemed to disappear completely—the Mexican border.

Western Arizona and eastern California was a simple blanket of black with clusters of light where the smaller towns and cities lay.  Then the lights on the ground began as a glow on the western horizon, as if the sun had changed its mind and was perhaps coming back up for a final glimpse.  Then suddenly we were looking at the most tremendous sea of lights I’d ever seen.  Lights as far as the eye could see, dense, brilliant, flickering, thriving.  One highway became many, glowing two-tone snakes writhing across the glittering landscape. Thirty minutes later, the light ended abruptly and frighteningly at what appeared at first glance to be a wall of emptiness—the vast expanse of the Pacific Ocean. 

I was excited, looking at all those lights.  At last, I had come to the land of Oz!

Since then I have been to California several times, but I have not been here in over fifteen years.  The day I wrote this, I was basking in sixty-five degree sunny weather (“real feel” seventy-two) in Winterhaven on the Arizona border.  I had not felt so relaxed and happy in a long time.  The sky was blue and clean, the air fresh and reviving, the countryside quiet except for the frequent trains and the occasional jet. I was reminded of how delightful summer felt in childhood, in central Pennsylvania, before global warming turned the weather on its head, back when California was fictional and mythical, and I was happy and hopeful to be once again in Oz.

In recent days, we have crossed the California portion of the Sonoran Desert and the Laguna Mountains, visited San Diego and traveled up the Pacific Coast Highway to Winnetka, slightly northwest of Los Angeles proper. While driving into the densely populated, auto-heavy metropolis, I could feel the artificiality of the culture here.  This place is the myth-making machine for the American dream, Spin Central for our commercialized consumerist culture.  And while I might have observed this at one time with contempt, I see it now for its absurdity, its irony, its folded-over humor.  I see it for the trickster medicine it really is and am no longer angry over it.  Just certain that I want to visit this Oz for a short time and move on to a place I can truly call home.

Now, where are my ruby slippers?