Red umbrellas, Lightbulbs, Magnolia Tree

I took this picture recently, in the front of Playa Azul restaurant, one of my favorite places to eat on the planet. They don’t have a Michelin star, but the flautas are star quality.

We stopped in my hometown after four hours on the road, taking an almost-deserted highway 101 southbound instead of the I-5 that Google Maps suggested (I-5 was going to be mandatory eventually, to get from San Clemente to Oceanside, no other way round it).

I’m retired. I don’t need to save time or take the quickest route (which usually lacks soul).

I was intrigued by the red umbrellas out front, large and sheltering, like the towering magnolia. The string of lightbulbs (taking the day off), would be part of the evening magic for other diners.

I liked that this photo isolates three elements of living, each with a distinct identity and purpose.

That section of Santa Barbara street (one way, northbound) is a bit congested, but was quiet in between traffic light cycles.

Canon Perdido Street is just down the block, leading one way to my high school and the other way to De La Guerra Plaza, where my dad worked. Carrillo Street is the other way, and I have good memories of working at the bank on the corner for two years, saving money for grad school.

Keep going west on Carrillo Street and you will eventually end up on the Mesa, and bearing to the left, the Lighthouse Park and Shoreline Park.

Santa Barbara is such an intuitive, tiny, toy playground of a town, overpriced and overdone, yes, but sweetly simple when you get into the middle of any block, and meditate on red umbrellas, light bulbs and a magnolia tree.