notes on a place --
we rode bicycles across venice to gjelina for charred peaches and prosciutto, to salt & straw for almond brittle and sea salt caramel cones, to superba for thick slices of levain toast with fresh ricotta and sweet berry jam, to abbot kinney to feast our eyes on window treasures and bright bougainvillea, to the beach to watch surfers and answer the siren call of the coast. we dipped our toes in the chilly spray of el matador. we sipped iced coffee on the patio of our tin roofed bungalow and pinched ourselves over its outdoor shower of dreams. we drove up rustic canyon, peeping midcentury houses and eucalyptus trees. we got it -- why people trade new york city, or anyplace, for southern california. i have a hunch we'll always be four season folk ourselves, but no matter. it did us heaps of good, trying on venice for a while, feeling the sun and salt kissing our skin.