“Here, beneath this tree, she had lain on her back in the sun and watched the butterflies. Part of her would linger there for ever: a footstep running tip-toe to the creek, the touch of her hand on a tree, the imprint of her body in the long grass. And perhaps one day, in after years, someone would wander there and listen to the silence, as she had done, and catch the whisper of the dreams that she had dreamt there, in midsummer, under the hot sun and the white sky.” — Daphne du Maurier, Frenchman’s Creek.
Art by Lucy Campbell
Three of my favorites in one painting: a wolf, a raven, and trees. I’d love to curl up and hibernate in a mighty oak guarded by my beloved animal family — to dream of butterflies and seashells and other simple but profound bearers of joy.
I don’t talk much about the part of Southern California where I live; other than my beach, lagoon, and the stupid local government. I’m about thirty or forty miles or so from the city, and while I don’t often get down there, I do love old pictures that chronicle the history of San Diego far more accurately than words.
Here’s a photo of San Diego Bay taken in 1892 from the vantage point of State Street and Broadway. It all looks calm and free of tourists, exactly how we locals like our life here in SoCal.
San Diego Bay / Photo from Reddit
I always thought the oldest bar in San Diego was the Waterfront, but it’s not, because the Waterfront opened in 1933 when prohibition was repealed,
The oldest bar in San Diego is the Tivoli Bar, opened as a saloon in 1885. It’s located on a lot originally owned by Alonzo Horton who helped develop most of downtown San Diego.
Tivoli Bar/Curated from SFGate
Built in 1864, the building was first called the Walker House and functioned as a boarding house, feed store, and blacksmith shop. The Walker House was converted into a saloon and kitchen in 1885. The original bar (still there) was built in Boston and brought to San Diego by ship around Cape Horn at the southern tip of South America, a journey which took three to four months.
The original cash register from the turn of the 20th century and the old safe are still displayed in the bar.
The Tivoli Bar has hosted many famous characters including Wyatt Earp and his wife Josephine, whose photos are prominently displayed over the entrance to the bar, along with Frank Sinatra and Sophia Loren.
The bar flourished during a time when San Diego was a boomtown and the Gaslamp was the city’s red light district, an area then known as the Stingaree. A warning sign from the time reads: “This area is known to be populated by anarchists, confidence men, cut throats, shady ladies, hop heads, perverts and thieves.”
Here’s an 1882 crime report from a local newspaper: “About 8 o’clock on Friday evening, a fracas occurred in the Tivoli Saloon between Gus Young and one Ballantine, in which the former was struck over the head with a chair in such a forcible manner that the latter is of no further service, and will have to be sent to a furniture store for repairs.”
I bet there were some wild times inside the Tivoli–if only the walls could talk! It’s a certified dive bar and I can’t believe I’ve never been there. I think it’d be fun to take the train downtown and check it out.
Have you heard of reporter and author Max Miller?
Max Miller was a reporter for the San Diego Sun and author of twenty eight books. In 1932, he wrote I Cover the Waterfront, an interesting account of San Diego’s port community that inspired Hollywood movies and became the title of a jazz standard sung by Billie Holliday, Frank Sinatra, and Sarah Vaughan, but sadly, NOT Leon Russell.
The book’s characters include true-life sea captains, Portuguese fishermen, flying squid, sparkling Garibaldi fish, movie stars, Charles Lindbergh, Babe Ruth, and a beautiful young woman who got away.
Miller also drew from his experiences living in Everett, Washington and when he attended the University of Washington. He also wrote Harbor of the Sun: The Story of the Port of San Diego, which is a fairly difficult book to locate. He died in La Jolla.
Here’s Sarah Vaughan with her 1946 version of I Cover The Waterfront (I couldn’t find a Leon Russell connection this time at all…LOL).
FYI: This is not a post written with the intention to extol any vacation virtues of San Diego. We REALLY have far too many visitors here but I’m sure there are other lovely places to choose for a holiday…
There’s a huge difference between being childlike and childISH. I’ve been (wrongly) accused of being childish or of not “growing up” (whatever THAT means) when the truth is that I’ve retained the quality of childlike wonder and joy regarding the world we inhabit — especially when it comes to simple things like a butterfly or a seashell or whales or stargazing or a spectacular beach sunset. At the end of the day, these things are what’s important, at least for me.
Hermann Hesse, poet and author of “Siddhartha”, wrote about this same character trait:
“All children, as long as they still live in the mystery, are continuously occupied in their souls with the only thing that is important, which is themselves and their enigmatic relationship with the world around them.
Seekers and wise people return to these preoccupations as they mature.
Most people, however, forget and leave forever this inner world of the truly significant very early in their lives. Like lost souls they wander about for their entire lives in the multicolored maze of worries, wishes, and goals, none of which dwells in their innermost being and none of which leads them to their innermost core and home.”- Hermann Hesse
We should never ever lose the part of us that points up to the sky and says, “Look at the moon!”
Here’s another point of view; not so sweet, but wild and ferocious…
This is the post I planned for Monday before we had that 5.2 earthquake. Since then, terra firma has been quiet around here, but I did finally install the earthquake warning app to be ready for the next one.
Here’s the word of the day…tsundoku.
I had no idea there was a specific word to describe a pile of unread books.
In Japanese, “tsundoku” means collecting books and letting them pile up, not for neglect, but for the joy of knowing they’re there, full of untold stories.
The word “tsundoku” is a combination of “tsunde-oku” (to let things pile up) and “dokusho” (reading books).
My professor son has stacks of books all over his house and is guilty of acquiring as many books as he does plants for the garden. Half of them are for teaching and the others are for pleasure, he says. They live sort of near the guy who won a lot of money on Jeopardy, Tom Nissley, and he opened Phinney Books, which is cool. Both of the kids have shelves of books, too, so it runs in the family.
Here’s what’s on my bedside table. I confess that I actually NEVER read AB’s book in its entirety, but since I proofed the first draft, there’s a bit of me in there somewhere. Of course there’s Leon (I know, I’m so predictable) and gifted books about crystals and gardening. I didn’t include all my chick lit books because they’re immediately devoured. I get most of those secondhand from DIL because we enjoy the same authors. She’s a neuroscientist and those reads are a way for her brainy brain to unwind.
The people of this world are like the three butterflies in front of a candle’s flame. The first one went closer and said: I know about love. The second one touched the flame lightly with his wings and said: I know how love’s fire can burn. The third one threw himself into the heart of the flame and was consumed. He alone knows what true love is.
“Accustom yourself every morning to look for a moment at the sky and suddenly you will be aware of the air around you, the scent of morning freshness that is bestowed on you between sleep and labor.
You will find every day that the gable of every house has its own particular look, its own special lighting.
Pay it some heed…you will have for the rest of the day a remnant of satisfaction and a touch of coexistence with nature.
Gradually and without effort the eye trains itself to transmit many small delights.” –Hermann Hesse
The 1946 Nobel Prize in Literature was awarded to the German author Hermann Hesse. Photos by Enchanted Seashells
When things are as bad as they appear to be here in the US, and with growing anxiety every day, sometimes all we can do is breathe and reach for the light wherever we can.
Light is the thing we seek Within the darkest of day, let it show us the way.
Little words by Athey Thompson “Reaching for that Star” by Florian Ceglarek
Enchanted Seashells | Princess Rosebud 