This post was contributed by a community member.
I spent the past week doing something that I rarely do, and that was to dwell in the quiet of nature. I wasn't exactly roughing it, but I did get the solitude that I have been craving.
I drove way the heck out to Temecula in the middle of the biggest storm of the year. I stayed at an artist colony up in the mountains. For a relatively small fee, I had a new cabin all to myself. Since the massive fires of 2003, when Dorland Mountain Artist Colony burned to the ground, only two such cabins have been rebuilt. Getting burned down is never good, but the timing was especially bad. Fundraising for non-profits for the past several years has been practically non-existent and Dorland was starting from scratch again.
I was lucky to be chosen as worthy of taking a slot there. It is a big deal to apply, requiring several letters of recommendation and large samples of the project you plan to work on during your stay, all requiring approval about two months before your requested time to visit, but it offers the rare gift of relative isolation. Plus, I got the sights, sounds, fresh air and intoxicating smells that nature conjures following a big rain.
Something that I noticed at Dorland were the night sounds. They are so much like Moorpark, minus the barking dogs—usually my barking dogs. There are the birds that mass in nearby trees, many of the same songbirds that used to descend on my feeders until we had to stop feeding them because of The Rat Problem. The owls sound just like the owls in my backyard, only without the canine chorus.
In Moorpark, there are two owls near us—one a baritone, the other a soprano—who hoot all night long. One of my dogs finds them fascinating. So at two o'clock in the morning, I often hear (high tone) HOO HOO HOO, followed by (deep tone) HOO HOO HOO, followed by BARK BARK BARK. HOO HOO HOO. HOO HOO HOO. BARK BARK BARK. Over and over until I storm outside in my nightgown to corral Nature Dog.
Like Moorpark, Temecula was a mostly rural, agricultural speck on the map until the past 20 years. The difference is the way it was planned, or the lack of planning in this case. I take my hat off to the Ventura County officials who stood between sane development and crazy builders. The sprawling main drag in Temecula is seven lanes wide, with a speed limit of 55 mph. It is occupied by alternating massive strip malls and massive residential developments hidden behind massive plain walls. Every one of the huge strip malls has several fast food joints and every big box ever invented.
The miracle of Dorland is that although it was just a 10 minute drive away from that urban madness, it felt so far away. Moorpark feels less frenetic because of the large parks and greenbelts which really do moderate the frenzy of life.
So I would like to remind the good citizens of Moorpark and the rest of Ventura County to respect and appreciate what we have, thanks to many who worked their butts off over the past two decades to keep it beautiful . Once it is gone, there is no getting it back. When election time comes around, take notice of those who have dedicated their public lives to making this area highly livable. Long live the tree-huggers, one and all.
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