California inspires a love uncommon in today's world; I have found very few that love their homeland, especially in the United States, with a passion equaling that of Californians -- or even those who have visited. It is a beautiful state to look at, certainly, but that is only a very small part of what makes us wax eloquent.

Something within the vistas, the atmosphere, grabs us like a vision, a dreamland... A magic place where anything is possible. When one who has been to California speaks of it, it is rarely without a tinge of longing, of nostalgia; from an afternoon on the mountain to a morning hiking in the oak-studded hills, from an evening in the crowded excitement of a San Francisco club to a night watching the liquid magic of the moon on the Pacific...

The nights are edged with light, the days bathed in warm sun, the hills drowsing under the velvet grasses and dark coats of chaparral. The colors change slowly with the seasons, from the bleached champagne of late summer to the grey-brown of fall, giving way to the green of the new year, only to be faded to gold by May. There is comfort in their bulk, a presence at the corner of the mind and eye like large animals sleeping, cities cradled protectively in their flanks.

It is a land of the sun, who gazes down in winter and summer, jealous of the clouds; memories are often of light. The thick, dusky August evenings, the light lingering until well after nine o'clock. The clear, white sunshine of January mornings, sparkling off the coat of frost. The fresh light after a rain, washed clean and echoed by every hanging drop. This set to the tune of the ever-changing sky, whose whitewashed slate is colored azure once again in spring and fall. The electric, midnight blue of a half-hour before sunrise, the air humming with anticipation of the coming day...

Even the cities are not like other cities. San Francisco, an island that is not an island, surrounded on three sides by water, a glittering castle from a fairy tale, with all earthly wonders to be found there. San Jose, where the tech thickens the hazy air so much that you can learn about computers just by breathing, and the cutting edge of technology grows closer to the realm of fantasy every day. Berkeley, seeming almost unreal in its carefree shabbiness, contrasted by its stolid neighbor, Oakland. Monterey, a mix of old and new days, a carnival air mixing with the salt of the sea. Los Angeles, where the millions of inhabitants live and breathe the dreams of the city's spirit, and it seems almost like it might one day wake. Santa Monica, the bustle creating a tempo and a music, each day a tapestry of images unforgettable to the eye.

The state itself seems to be alive, a living, breathing being, formed by the dreams and perceptions of those who live there. Not always a friendly place, much like the old fairy stories, as much inclined to betrayal or viciousness as to beauty and grace... But its glamour and sparkle draw the soul again and again, the memories gleaming in the mind like jewels, coaxing one back again with the promise of treasure. An orange from the tree, tasted as the first light hits the emerald of the winter grasses. A saxophone player in the 19th St. Oakland train station, his horn flashing golden against the blue of the brick as he competes with the sound of the traffic outside. Riding in the glass elevators of the Embarcadero and looking out at the two bridges, lit up against the bay. Driving through the dunes near Monterey, past Sand City, and seeing the lines of footprints in the sand and a kite pasted against the sky.

Any place makes memories, but California has a magic that lines them in glitter, gilding them with an intensity of color and emotion rare in simple recollection. My own mind sees other places as more prosaic, more mundane and practical; the lecture held up against the theater. The heart yearns for the beauty and magic of the fairy tale, and one finds oneself returning again and again, realizing anew the need for the soft hills and sharp experiences only found here, at the edge of the world.