So it may come as no surprise to most that we are going to miss living in Malibu--sorely, deeply, longingly, miss it. Just finding these "lost" pictures this evening taken from just before that doomed summer vacation makes my heart pang with loss, with mourning, with sadness, for what will be missed.
What will be thought of most often is probably not what you are imagining though. Malibu is a truly special place. But as I have mentioned here before, envisioning it's sand-crusted shores as a beach-side Beverly Hills is way off mark. Yes, there is a small smattering of fake boob, bikini-clad, baked and gold-bangled blondes about here and there. But, in reality, that's not the real Malibu at all.
Located in Los Angeles at the very northern tip of it's county line is an oasis from the smoggy city innards. It's rural, natural and rugged. Dusty ranches perch upon largely undeveloped hillsides. Coyotes, vultures and bobcats comb the brush for easy eating. Cowboys ride their horses down the winding scenic highways to the local country mart--as there are only three grocery stores in town and only two of those are chains. Most locals are salty, have beach-locked strands and tarballs on the bottoms of their feet. The mornings and evenings are always, always cold and dense with fog rolling in off of the Pacific as thick as pea soup. The water is never ever tolerable for entrance without a wetsuit--even during the dead of summer. Dolphin and sea lion spottings are frequent as are starfish and lively colored sea urchin. Dark colored rock formations scatter the beaches creating no shortage of caves and coves for exploring. Shark spottings are occasional and rattlesnake, scorpion, sea rat and tarantula visits come with the turf.
This is Malibu, my friends. And I am going to miss the hell out of it.
Now those of you who are regular readers of Mama Milieu may be rolling your eyes at my sudden change of heart--"forget the pain and remember the pretty, eh?" you are mumbling to yourselves. It's true that we had our fair share of struggles and strife on Milagro Ranch. Malibu and its raw roughness wasn't always batting for our team. I have not forgotten the sleepless and fully-lit nights on 10-inch centipede watch, or the mouse in the house, or the two rattlesnakes on the patio, or the tarantula in the living room, or the scorpion in the sliding glass door. I have not forgotten about the dust and the hard, hard work and the outdoor laundry facilities. I have not forgotten about any of it.
But, I will miss the coos of owls and wild quail and the scampering of cotton-tailed bunnies munching alfalfa down at the horses' haybarn. I will miss the silence and breezes and front row view of the milky-way and all of its sisters and brothers and cousins. I will miss the carsickness brought on by the 5 miles of hairpins and switchbacks to and from the rocky coast. I will miss the breathtaking canyon views in the foggy mornings, the sunlit afternoons and fiery glow at sunset. I will miss the sparkle in Noah's eyes as he experiences the beauty of nature like all of us dream we could again--like a child--for the very first time. I will miss the stillness that results from no neighbors, not even one, for miles and miles. I will miss all of this and I just can't leave without saying so.
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To read all about our adventures in Malibu and at Milagro Ranch, follow this link.
And, for our life in Malibu in pictures, click here.
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