Moonage Daydream

The crispness of the East Coast fall air, first frost, leaves in their final throes of red and amber glow reminds me of fall in Malibu, circa 1982-1986.

Malibu was always beautiful, but it threw me off how it felt like fall yet didn't look like fall back home. As an East Coaster I couldn't get past the brown dryness of it all--the Chaparral of the Santa Monica Mountains.

Nestled in that little piece of heaven, overlooking the majestic Pacific Ocean, I walked and walked and walked--for recreation, for health, for time to think.

In the fall of '85 I remember two things: the wildfires and my obsession with this Bowie cassette-- the soundtrack of my life that autumn.