"In the old days, I remember a wind that would blow down through the canyons. It was a hot wind called the Santa Ana, and it carried with it the smell of warm places. It blew the strongest before dawn, across the point. My friends and I would sleep in our cars, and the smell of the offshore wind would often wake us. And each morning, we knew this would be a special day"

Dedicated to David Richard Annear 1964 - 2008