Finding home

I fell for San Luis Obispo in 1993, on the way home from a spring break camping trip in Oregon. We were too tired to drive all the way back to LA, and someone in the caravan suggested that we stop at Montana de Oro State Park, just outside of SLO.

We got there late and set up camp in the dark. I was the first one up in the morning, and I went for a walk on the bluffs just after sunrise. The hillsides were covered in poppies and mustard, fog clung to the peaks, and waves slammed the rocky coves, blasting mist onto the trail. I decided I had to live here some day.

Nine years and several cities later, my husband and I finally made the move. We're avid travelers, but there's no place in the world we'd rather live. It's good to be home.