Seeing the Unseen: My Journey with Dragonflies

 Seeing the Unseen: My Journey with Dragonflies

By Armando Ortiz

Life presents us with patterns of interconnectedness, whether we choose to see them or not. Some feel random, but in hindsight, they form a web of meaning. As humans, we weave significance into the things around us, creating symbolism from what appears to be chance. It can be playful or overwhelming. Ultimately, we decide how to process it.

In the early 2000’s I spent time studying in South Korea and China. After completing my graduate studies, and no longer able to continue studying Mandarin, I moved on to other ventures. I spent some time teaching English in South Korea before using my savings to start a business back in Los Angeles. My idea was simple: people in the U.S. would buy East Asian art books.

From 2007 to 2011, I traveled frequently between the U.S. and China, also visiting South Korea and Japan in search of books. At the peak of my business, I traveled to China at least once or twice a year. I drove to many parts of the Western and Midwest regions of the U.S., met many artists, and saw many different places. I was fortunate.

Most of my books came from Tianjin. I chose the city simply by browsing a Beijing bookstore and gravitating toward a particular book. The publisher that resonated with me was based there– about 70 miles from the capital, roughly the same distance as a drive from Los Angeles to Ventura. I remember my first trip: all I had was an address and a printed map. The beginning of my business was more of an adventure.

This reflection is less about my business and more about the randomness of interconnected moments - the meanings we attach to things, in this case, dragonflies. 

While in Tianjin, on my way to the bank with a publishing company secretary, I spotted a dead dragonfly on the sidewalk. I picked it up and examined it. Its body shimmered metallic green and blue, catching the sunlight. Its transparent wings had disintegrated, leaving only delicate filaments– traces of its former flight.

A few days later, in Beijing, I checked into my room and rested. Suddenly, a dragonfly landed on the outer edge of the air conditioner. It lingered there and died. The heat that day was intense. I opened the window and saw its iridescent body up close. I left it where it was but felt oddly lucky to have noticed it.

Two weeks after returning to Los Angeles, I encountered another dead dragonfly on Wilshire Boulevard, near a palm tree. As before, I picked it up, examined it, then returned it to where I’d found it. This one wasn’t metallic like the ones in China– it had muted shades of purple and gray, with hints of sage. There was no hesitation in picking it up; it felt natural, as if I was meant to find them.

Curious, I looked up dragonflies but didn’t research deeply. I learned they mostly live near water and that thousands of species exist. 

Months later, after summer had passed, I found myself in Tucson, Arizona. Taking a break from selling books, I visited a weekend arts festival. There, I came across an artist named Magdalena Nowacka. Her paper cutout artwork, inspired by Native American religions, was intricate and thoughtful. As I browsed through her collection, I found an affordable piece– a card with a dragonfly at its center. It immediately brought back memories of my recent encounters.

The design was inspired by Japanese motifs. That evening, I researched Japanese symbolism and learned that many believe Japan, when viewed on a map, resembles a dragonfly. The insect is also called the victory insect because of its agility, vibrant colors, and appetite for mosquitoes. I jotted these findings down in my notebook, along with my growing list of connections.

Later, my niece asked if I had ever written a poem about dragonflies. She told me that she had a toy dragonfly and wanted to read something I had written on the subject. Her question caught me off guard– I had never considered writing about them before.

Then, as if the universe had nudged me again, a friend invited me to a birthday party at a venue called The Dragonfly. Inside, a massive dragonfly sculpture loomed over the stage. I took it as a sign. I needed to gather these experiences and make something of them.

In time, I learned about damselflies, their smaller and more delicate relatives. I also discovered that my home state has 77 recorded species– 47 dragonflies and 29 damselflies. The most common? The Flame Skimmer.

The connections continue. On a weekend hike, I spotted dragon flies hovering at the top of a ridge, far from any water. Had the wind carried them from Burbank to this pass, where mosquitos might have gathered? I couldn’t say. But I had already begun the process of stringing these moments together, and I was enjoying it. 

That’s the beauty of story telling– how one thing can lead to another, creating patterns where none seemed to exist. The key is to draw the reader into your world; your way of seeing.

The more I noticed dragonflies, the more they seemed to notice me. Maybe it’s time I finally write that poem.

Anza-Borrego State Park: Road trip and Camping

Anza-Borrego State Park: Road trip and Camping

By Armando Ortiz

Introduction to Area and Road Trip

Anza-Borrego State Park lies in Southern California’s central interior, bordered by Ocotillo to the south near the Mexican border, Julian and Ramona to the west, the Salton Sea to the east, and the Palomar Mountains to the north. Once submerged under water, this region holds evidence of human presence dating back thousands of years.

The best time to visit is in Spring or Fall, though Winter can also be pleasant. Summers, however, bring intense heat. From downtown Los Angeles the drive takes about four hours, including potentially heavy traffic on I-15 South. My preferred route from Temecula winds through diverse landscapes, from chaparral to desert vistas, offering a peaceful escape from the busier highways.

Background of Anza Borrego

For centuries, Indigenous groups lived in this region, leaving behind mortar sites used to process seeds like juniper berries, and agave. The Kumeyaay are the group most closely associated with the area, though others, such as the Cahuilla, traveled here seasonally. The park takes its name from Juan de Anza, who traveled and explored the area in the 1700s, as he was heading northwest into California’s interior. Today, the desert landscape attracts permanent residents and visitors alike from across Southern California, drawn by its stark beauty and natural wonders. 

Activities in Anza-Borrego

Hiking is popular in and around the park, best enjoyed during the cooler months of winter and spring. Summers can be dangerous due to the extreme heat. Trails vary in difficulty; some are accessible by sedan, while others require high-clearance, four wheel drive vehicles. Off-roading is another common pastime- you’ll often see caravans of Jeeps, Tacomas and 4Runners, as well as campers being hauled by full size trucks.

Ancient Native American sites can be reached by combining hiking and off-roading. An all-wheel drive vehicle can shorten hikes, but most sites are accessible via trails of up to two miles. The park is also known for its unique iron sculptures, scattered across the desert landscape around the town of Borrego Springs. These artworks emerge on the horizon, though reaching some may require navigating unmarked trails to reach. The night turns magical as you observe the Milky Way stretching across the sky. 

Ending and review

Anza Borrego feels less desolate as other California desert parks, thanks to its nearby eateries and hotels. To fully enjoy its unique offerings, plan an overnight stay- either camping or at a local hotel. The landscape features agave, ocotillos, barrel cacti, and desert palm give it a distinct charm. Spring, especially after a wet season, is another excellent time to visit.

On our way home, we often stop in Julian, CA, a charming mountain town known for its apple pies, really good burgers, and rustic ambiance. Located at higher elevation, Julian offers a cool, green contrast to the desert’s stark beauty, with pine and oak forests. 

Drive along Highway 78 to Julian, the scenery transforms from barren, rocky mountains dotted with cactus to chaparral, then to lush woodlands. The sudden transition highlights the unique microclimates of the area, making Julian feel like a cool retreat after the desert’s intensity. 

John Steinbeck's The Grapes of Wrath: Book Review and Reflections

John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath: Book Review and Reflections

By Armando Ortiz

Is the migration of people a phenomenon that exists during one generation or is it something that has taken place hundreds of times for thousands of years? John Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath, published in 1939, captures the plight of Oklahoma farmers who lost their lands during the Great Depression. Steinbeck’s novel is one of the best novels I’ve read recently, resonating deeply with current migration issues as it explores the hardships faced by people displaced from their homes. 

I started reading Steinbeck’s novel a week before leaving for Peru and was completely engrossed by the plot. Once in Peru, the parallels between the Joad daily’s journey and the struggles of families migrating to the United States today became strikingly clear. This resemblance deepened my engagement with Steinbeck’s portrayal of resilience in the face of displacement. This review not only examines the novel but also reflects on its relevance on today’s migrants to the U.S.

The novel centers on the Joad family, particularly Tom Joad, as they struggle to survive in a rapidly changing world. In addition to chronicling the experiences that his characters go through he also describes the forces of nature over the American Southwest. The Joad family’s deep connection to their land is tested by unforgiving nature and relentless economic forces. During the Dust Bowl- a devastating drought in the mid-1930s Midwest- they struggle to maintain their home, only to be uprooted by banks prioritizing profit over people.

The banks and business interests of their property are not concerned for the wellbeing of people there. Locals in the countryside continue to lose their land to mechanized agriculture and are left with two options: try to get employed by those businesses or move somewhere else. The parcels lost by the families are the places they’ve called home for at least the last three generations. The uprooted family is forced to make tough decisions that will take them to California. 

The Joad family’s deep connection to their land mirrors the universal bond that many have with the earth- a bond often cut by forces beyond their control. As their fight against the banks becomes futile, this connection becomes a painful memory, pushing them toward a new hope in California. During my trek on the Inca Trail in Peru, a guide spoke of the spiritual connections people have with the earth, a sentiment that echoes in Steinbeck’s portrayal of Jim Casy and the Joad’s family’s bond to their land.

Ultimately, the Joad family abandons their fight against the banks and sets off for California, lured by pamphlets promising plentiful farming jobs and the hope of prosperity. For the Joads, the food, grapes and oranges, and the possibility of affording a home together draws them West. 

As the Joads journey west, their story eerily parallels the experiences of many Latin American migrants heading to the U.S. today, driven by similar hopes and hardships. People who decide to head North to where the myth of finding pennies on the ground or picking up used televisions on the corners is alive. 

Tragedy soon follows the Joads westward: their dog is killed, Grandpa Joad dies and is buried by the roadside, and eventually, Grandma Joad passes away. The family’s journey is marked by loss and abandonment, reflecting the harsh realities of displacement. Little by little the family loses members, and they abandon their material possessions.

The trials endured by the Joad family- loss, displacement, and the struggle for survival- are not relics of the past but living realities faced by countless migrants today. These scenes are poignantly mirrored today by the perilous journeys of migrants from South America to the U.S., who face immense hardships along routes like the Darien Gap. In South America, I witnessed first hand the strength of family and community ties, echoing the Joads’ experience of unity and loss. 

Just as Oklahoma served as a departure point for Dust Bowl migrants, towns in Colombia act as staging areas for those embarking on the perilous journey through the Darien Gap. Like many migrant families, the Joads family begin their journey united, but overtime, their cohesion erodes under the weight of tragedy and hardships.

In the midst of their journey, families like the Joads, are sadly separated by tragedy or necessity. Blood ties are not as strong as they once were. By watching videos and reading about the Darien Gap one learns that people begin to lighten their load once the weather, and terrain begin to take a toll on their bodies. Familial unity either becomes stronger or weakens. People get swept away by the rivers or get robbed by locals. The worst experience being one survivor of a five person family unit making it to the Panamanian refugee camp. 

Tragically, as Steinbeck illustrates, the hope of a  new beginning often demands a baptism of suffering. The renewal that comes with their move West has strings attached. Just as the Joad family faced discrimination, exploitation, and verbal abuse by the locals. Today there are politicians that blame our nation’s ills on illegal immigrants and asylum seekers. These new immigrants have become the new scapegoats for all that is bad in the country. 

Despite facing oppression from legal systems, neighbors and religious groups, the Joad family perseveres. They quickly adapt to their way of life and what keeps them moving forward is having a warm meal, but also a place to call their own. It is in their desperation, like immigrants today, where they find the strength to keep moving forward. 

Dispossessed and driven by necessity, today’s migrants, like the Joads, embody humanity at its rawest. Steinbeck’s novel compels us to recognize the enduring struggles of the poor and dispossessed, highlighting the shared human experience of seeking a better life amidst adversity.

Though written over 80 years ago, Steinbeck’s The Grapes of Wrath remains a timeless exploration of forced migration and the universal quest for a better life. It shows us that there will always be a reason why people decide to put their lives at risk as they hold on to promises that are only that and that along the way they will have to find new ways to adapt and push forward towards a new and better life.

A Quiet Retreat: Free-verse Reflections

 

A Quiet Retreat: Free-Verse Reflections

By Armando Ortiz

I sit here along the coast after a thirty minute drive on Pacific Coast Highway, lying on the sand, watching the waves roll in, each one bringing solace.

The crashing waves blend with memories of hiking the Sierras, where a cool breeze touched my skin as I prepared myself to enter the alpine lake. In the deepest silence, as the waters pulled back, a tiny mosquito pierced my skin with its sharp bite. 

Lost in thought, the crashing waves transform into a gentle rustle of aspen, pulling me back in time. The memory intersects with the present, where the sounds of water and breeze become a delight. 

No need for kegger parties or psychedelic nights; just nature’s embrace heightens the senses, offering deep insights. This mid-July heat wave intertwines with every other summer breeze and every tiny insect that takes flight. 

A single mosquito stands as a buzzing reminder, its bite added to my life's itchy welts. Palm trees and cottonwoods wave gently at the endless stream of people, serene spectators to the flow of life.

If only my tent could transform into a permanent retreat, a place to watch sea lions surfing the dawn’s first light. Or a home nestled among oaks and pines, their gentle shade shielding me from the afternoon’s oppressive heat.

High on a hill, where no buzzing mosquito will dare to exist, a refuge of tranquility. Back at the coast, the sand scorches beneath my feet, but the ocean’s blue embrace offers a cooling reprieve. 

Who needs a retreat when nature’s wonder is just a few minutes away?

John Steinbeck’s The Pearl: Review

Standing Against the Waves - John Steinbeck’s The Pearl: Review

By Armando Ortiz

In John Steinbeck’s novella The Pearl, a young couple named Kino and Juana face a crisis when their baby, Coyotito, is bitten by a scorpion. Desperate for medical help, Kino seeks assistance but finds none due to their lowly status.

Determined to find a solution, Kino heads to the sea to hunt for pearls to pay for his son’s treatment and discovers the largest pearl anyone has ever seen, which seems like a blessing soon turns into a curse as news of his find spreads throughout the town.

The pearl’s discovery attracts the attention of everyone, including those who previously ignored Kino’s family. The entire community becomes obsessed with the pearl’s potential, yet they overlook the dire condition of Coyotito, who lies at death’s door.

Kino dreams of the changes his newfound treasure will bring, envisioning his son attending school, buying a rifle, and purchasing new clothes for the family. Yet, selling the pearl proves difficult as local dealers conspire to undervalue it to maximize their profits.

The pearl soon becomes a source of danger, bringing violence during the night and suspicions in the morning. Kino faces attacks from those who wish to steal it. The same doctor who once refused to help his family now shows up. Though the doctor supposedly saves Coyotito’s life, his true intentions remain suspicious. 

Juana, realizing the pearl’s destructive power, hopelessly attempts to throw it back in the sea, but Kino stops her. The drama by the coast worsens as Kino is ambushed by mysterious figures. Despite the mounting tragedies, Kino and Juana remain determined to persevere.

  Throughout the narrative, Kino confronts the challenges head on. Just when things look bleak, there is a flash of hope and a solution. Nonetheless, this brings even more challenges, and the relentless pressure of his responsibilities weigh heavily on him. Steinbeck skillfully portrays Kino and his family’s struggles, as if standing still against the metaphorical waves that threaten their existence.

Kino is aware of his low position in his community, but the pearl’s discovery emboldens him to seek a better life. When the townspeople refuse to offer a fair price for the pearl, he decides to journey north, hoping for fairer opportunities. However, this decision leads to more violence and the tragic death of Coyotito.

Steinbeck’s novella highlights the plight of those marginalized by society’s power structures. The narrative illustrates how the ruling class in the story relentlessly obtains valuable resources at the lowest cost, often at the expense of the poor. Kino’s refusal to sell the pearl cheaply attracts dangerous attention from those eager to profit from his misfortune.

The setting of The Pearl reflects Steinbeck’s profound understanding of the Sea of Cortez. His vivid descriptions of the tide pools and the desert boulders that Kino climbs to find safety reveal his intimate knowledge of the Baja California region. By immersing the reader in this environment, Steinbeck extends his narrative of California into Mexico, showcasing the unique lives and experiences shaped by the contours of the coast.

Nevertheless, the story remains relevant today. As we scan the news about faraway places and the precarious lives of the poor, we realize that this narrative is universal and powerful. It unfolds daily from the highlands of the Andes to the jungles of the Congo, from coastal fishing villages to populous megacities. Ultimately, The Pearl is a timeless story of human perseverance amidst formidable challenges, resonating with audiences across cultures and eras.

Crater Lake National Park: Road Trips from Los Angeles

Crater Lake National Park: Road Trips from Los Angeles

By Armando Ortiz

Crater Lake National Park: Nature’s Geologic Wonder Awaits

Situated in South Central Oregon among pine forests that stretch far and wide lies a breathtaking wonder: Crater Lake National Park. Once a giant volcano that surpassed all others in the American Northwest, this park now offers waterfalls, lakes, rivers and creeks surrounding this ancient caldera. If you’re in search of a National Park adventure that unveils geologic wonders and mysterious lakes, this post is made for you. Let’s delve into what you will and might see and discover if you embark on a trip to this captivating destination.

The Road Trip: Unveiling Nature’s Magic

Driving to Crater Lake is easier than it looks, and the drive promises something magical as you drive through diverse landscapes. Road trips have a certain magic to them that cannot be replicated with air travel. Starting the seven hundred mile road trip from Los Angeles, you take the i-5 freeway north. Soon you’ll be driving through the San Joaquin Valley that’s peppered with agricultural towns and golden rolling hills. As you approach Sacramento there might be some traffic, but soon you continue your drive along what seems to be an endless valley. 

Progressing further north, the landscape begins to change and you see oak trees along the edge of the highway, as you continue on it becomes a mix of oaks and pines. At Redding, pines begin to paint the land a deep green, and this will be a good place to stock up on groceries and gas.

At a distance you’ll begin to see the majestic snow capped Mount Shasta, California’s own version of Mt. Fuji. Once you drive past Weed, CA you will take the 97 which will take you northeast. As you keep driving you’ll see views of Mt Shasta and appreciate its grandeur. Driving through the tiny town of Dorris, CA you’ll cross into the Klamath Lakes of Oregon, and be ever so nearer to Crater Lake.

Admire the lake, and consider that thousands of years ago the lake was more than ten times the size than it is today. More recently the lake was mostly drained to have agriculture be a more viable enterprise for the Americans that settled there in the late 1800s to early 1900s. The town of Klamath Falls will be a good place to fill up on gas and get some snacks or buy some ice for your cooler. You continue north and keep driving along what seems like the edge of an endless waters edge until you begin a long stretch of pine forest and reach Highway 138.  

Campgrounds and Water Wonders: Nature’s Bounty

As you approach Crater Lake National Park many campgrounds await, though you must make sure to have made your reservation months ahead of time. To the north and along the edge of Diamond Lake are three campgrounds: Broken Arrow, Thielsen View and Diamond Lake. To the west and southwest,  along highway 62 you’ll find campgrounds along the creeks that feed into the Rogue River: Mill Creek, River Bridge, Natural Bridge, Abbott Creek and Union Creek Campgrounds. The park itself has two campgrounds. The true magic of this entire area lies in its creeks, rivers, lakes and waterfalls, but be prepared for mosquitos and bugs by bringing bug spray. 

We camped at Diamond Lake campground and had lakeside views. Along this campground, various activities are available for you. Rent paddle boats, fishing boats, or kayaks to explore the lake. An easy and mostly flat bicycle road follows the lake’s edge, making it a tranquil ride within the forest. The campground store offers freshly made pizza, decadent ice cream and handcrafted sandwiches.

The Crater: Awe-Inspiring Views Await

Once at Crater Lake prepare to be spellbound by the wonders of its rim. Every side of its rim has awesome panorama views of Mt Shasta and the Klamath Mountains that add to the magic of the place. Along the road are waterfalls that are very cold for you to cool off and dip your feet in, but be sure to wear sunscreen because the sun is intense. 

Taking a short hike to the crater’s rim rewards you with breathtaking views of Wizard Island set against the deep blue waters. Hiking down to the water's edge gives you a chance of diving into the cold waters and is highly recommended. Once you come out of the water you will feel refreshed. If you decide to take a dive make sure to open your eyes to see the mesmerizing blue glow that envelops you.

Exploration and Wonder: An Adventure Worthwhile

You can spend more than one day hiking and backpacking around the crater that range from easy to strenuous. When we were there the southeastern section of the lake was closed for road repairs, so try to get as much information on road conditions as you enter the park. The visitor center has a cafeteria offering fast food options like sandwiches, hotdogs, and chicken tenders. We bought some chicken tenders, along with some cold drinks and had lunch under the shade of some majestic pine trees.

Meeting a park ranger you’ll learn more about the park’s history. Crater Lake was once a 12,000 foot tall volcano named Mount Mazama by scientists today. Its eruption cut away a mile’s worth of height from its top which made it the caldera we call Crater Lake. From a distance, snow-covered volcanoes like Mt. Shasta stand in silent majesty on the California side.

Conclusion: Embrace the Magical Mystery

Crater Lake National Park is a place that has an amazing geologic history with an environment that is perfect to enjoy in the Summers. The drives through the surrounding forest and edge of the caldera make a visit here worthwhile. Whether you bring your family, gather your friends, or set off on a solo escape, Crater Lake’s magic awaits- an adventure well worth embracing.

Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve: Road Trips from Los Angeles

Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve: A Day Trip

by Armando Ortiz

   I've been to the Antelope Valley California Poppy Reserve State Natural Reserve many times, especially during Spring. The drive to this place is great and you have two options. Both ways of getting there from L.A. will take you through landscapes a bit different than the usual LA sights. You will be driving through the eastern edge of the Simi Hills and the western end of the Angeles National Forest mountains. 

First option to get there is via Highway 14 north, by taking the Interstate 5 north, then once you’ve passed San Fernando Valley you get on the 14 north all the way to Lancaster where you will exit Avenue I. Next, you will make a left and stay on that street till you join Lancaster Road. This route is the fastest and the most direct and you mostly get to see the western end of the Angeles Crest mountains. As you are driving north you can enjoy looking at the slanted rock formations that can be seen to the left-  Vasquez Rocks, whose name is taken from L.A.’s historic bandit - Tiburcio Vasquez.

The second option is a bit slower but the drive too is scenic and different. From L.A. you take Interstate 5 north and drive to the Magic Mountain area. You exit on Newhall Ranch, make a quick right, and drive past the rodeo grounds that will be on your right side. Then you will make a left on Copper Hill Drive and drive till you reach San Francisquito Canyon Road. Here you will make a left and head north for about 15 to 20 minutes, here you see drive through canyons, oak groves and see lingering signs of ranch life, till you merge with Elizabeth Lake Road, where you will make a left, and soon you will reach Munz Ranch Road where you will turn right. Depending on the year's rain and your time of visit, the hills in these areas might be splashed with the colors of wild desert flowers. The road winds its way through rolling grassy hills that will be peppered with tangerine colors, purple lupines and varying yellow hues. 

You pay to enter the Poppy Reserve and it is well worth the price. In the reserve there are picnic benches near the front, but you can also take a break in your car. There are defined trails that are easy to walk on. There might be one or two sections throughout the site that might get intense for a few meters. There is also a visitor center where you can purchase the typical souvenirs found in such places. It's worth going inside and checking out unique things related to the high desert, like books and hats. If you do decide to hike one of the trails make sure to take some water and a lunch. There are benches along the trails where you can sit and enjoy the views and reach into your bag and enjoy a snack. For a moment you can be transported to the past, when these flowers carpeted not only this area, but extended and covered all of the high desert and even all of Los Angeles. 

If you are on a budget you can pull off the main road where there is a decent amount of blossoms and enjoy the sights. Sometimes parking along the road can be intense, because many people visit this section of Los Anglees during the Spring, especially when there has been plenty of rain. Nevertheless, remind yourself that you are there too see a Spring blooms, and that’s what others are doing too, and believe it or not many people in the city ever drive this far to see something so unique.There are off road trails where you can enjoy the poppy fields, but you have to make sure your car is capable of doing light off-roading as well.

The best time to visit is during the Spring. Timing your visit will depend on how well you keep track of the rainfall in the deserts. Usually if it has been a wet year in Los Angeles you can rest assured that there will be poppies blooming in spring. It is all a matter of monitoring the rain fall, and also the weather because just as it can be a rainy season, hot weather the next week can mean that there will be a short blooming season. In addition, poppies are one of many wildflowers that bloom during the Spring, and these blooms can come in waves. Meaning, before poppies blossom there might be a blooming of desert lupines, goldfields, painted brush, and many others.

Montana De Oro State Park: Road Trips from Los Angeles

Morro Bay at a distance

Camping in California: Montana De Oro State Park

By Armando Ortiz

Watching the sun go down.

I drove through the area where this campsite is located a few years ago. It was past midnight and I was coming from Nor. Cal., the sky was onyx, and the moon’s light reflected on the coastal waters, like an old Mayan carving made of obsidian. At times I could see the white of the ocean water that was crashing onto the coastal crags. The tree groves seemed to just grow wild along the side of the road. This time around I came here to camp and to do some hiking.

Montana de Oro State Park is a very beautiful park that has lots to offer to any visitor. This park is located along the coast of Los Osos, which is about ten to fifteen miles west of San Luis Obispo. Along the way to the park one can find convenient stores and grocery stores where you can stock up on goods. The park gets heavily visited by day hikers, college students and people that are into outdoor sports.

My camp at Montana De Oro

I camped on the Environmental Site 1. Finding parking lot where I had to leave my car was not difficult, but the spot where I’d set up my tent was initially tough to find, but eventually I did. Initially I was a bit unsure of the location where I’d be staying for the night. My site was a quarter of a mile away from my car, and I seemed to be unprepared for a hike. After setting camp, and relaxing I discovered that there was a trail to hike right next to my location. In addition, the coastal sand bluffs were a few minutes away walking. I’d never been or seen such a place. The sand bluffs were new to me. I’d never been to coastal dunes, which make for some majestic photos.

Wild buck at a distance

As I climbed a dune I saw a wild buck. I tried getting closer, but still keeping a fairly good distance from it and took some photos of the wild deer. After having a light snack, and seeing the sun set, I began making my way back hiking around some more and once the sky began to darken returned to camp.During the night coyote visited me, it was outside the tent, all I could see what the shadow that its body created after I turned on the lamp. The rustling eucalyptus trees had woken me up as the midnight wind blew. Nights speckled with shinny pearls and owls watched my every move. Throughout the night coastal waves said, everything would be alright.

Morning at Montana De Oro State Park

In the morning I had instant oatmeal with a packet of trail mix. The tweet of fly catcher families greeted my morning walk.  As I headed towards to my car I saw butterflies float bye. They seemed to be following the northeastern sun. They seemed to be fluttering their wings, like black eyelashes on mocha skin. They moved gently, as if following the push of the breaking wind.

While I hiked the cliffs, a Condor glided bye and followed the edge of sand cliffs. I couldn’t help to imagine an aged cuirass protecting a soldier from an old armada galleon setting foot on the coast. Climbing these sand dunes for god and glory and finding maidens sitting, watching the sun go down. The smell of wild sage and sweet blossoms mixing with the desperate sweat of danger and opportunity, for a moment a flash crossed my mind.