I presently reside behind the Orange Curtain--please don't hold it against me. My work takes me to all of San Diego's districts and suburbs, and I'm usually in at least one of them at least once a week. In this process, San Diego, you've racked up yet another suitor, and the libidinous part of me regards you as Sandie Go....
At times, the more demure aspects of a neighborhood can be the most impressive, especially when observing their juxtaposition with surrounding areas. I recently found this to be true as I drove along Coronado Avenue/Imperial Beach Boulevard on the day before Christmas.
Heading westward, a procession of modest, tidy dwellings and businesses greeted my view on both sides as the terrain sloped gently downward to the ocean. Overhead, legions of scalloped clouds diffused the sunlight to complimentary effect upon these structures.
Going back eastward toward the freeway, I noticed that many of the traffic signal controller unit cabinets are painted with fanciful artwork. One on the south side of the street is painted with a depiction of what appears to be a wild horse, galloping in the direction of the sea. No graffiti is in evidence.
Looking south past the horse, beyond the airfield and the estuary, the hills contain structures evincing the sort of modesty that comes with indigence. The wild horse, being two-dimensional, has only a north-facing profile, so it doesn't see those hills. Strangely, I'm thankful it doesn't, although I'm thankful I do....
I presently reside behind the Orange Curtain--please don't hold it against me. My work takes me to all of San Diego's districts and suburbs, and I'm usually in at least one of them at least once a week. In this process, San Diego, you've racked up yet another suitor, and the libidinous part of me regards you as Sandie Go....
At times, the more demure aspects of a neighborhood can be the most impressive, especially when observing their juxtaposition with surrounding areas. I recently found this to be true as I drove along Coronado Avenue/Imperial Beach Boulevard on the day before Christmas.
Heading westward, a procession of modest, tidy dwellings and businesses greeted my view on both sides as the terrain sloped gently downward to the ocean. Overhead, legions of scalloped clouds diffused the sunlight to complimentary effect upon these structures.
Going back eastward toward the freeway, I noticed that many of the traffic signal controller unit cabinets are painted with fanciful artwork. One on the south side of the street is painted with a depiction of what appears to be a wild horse, galloping in the direction of the sea. No graffiti is in evidence.
Looking south past the horse, beyond the airfield and the estuary, the hills contain structures evincing the sort of modesty that comes with indigence. The wild horse, being two-dimensional, has only a north-facing profile, so it doesn't see those hills. Strangely, I'm thankful it doesn't, although I'm thankful I do....