© 2020 by Peter Coe Verbica
Santa Barbara, California – 7-11-21
I am at an odd juncture in my life. Perhaps you’ve been at this crossroad too, that moment just before everything changes. It is late morning when the smaller birds begin to mob the hawks which circle in the currents. Past the Los Padres, I am hovering in a two-seat helicopter, over the red-tiled roof of a white-washed mission. From the air, the architectural homogeneity of Santa Barbara overwhelms me like patchouli. I comprehend at once the beauty and brutality of zoning laws where buildings and people are