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  • Writer's pictureSusan Welsh

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.

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