A Birds Eye View

Of this weeks readings I thoroughly enjoyed, "A Geographer Looks at the San Joaquin Valley" by James J. Parsons. I thought he did a very good job at taking an area commonly thought of as being a big, hot, stinky armpit, and turning it into this amazingly interesting, diverse and complex agricultural dream come true.

The main reason I enjoyed this so much is because it hit so close to home. Both of my parents were born and raised in Bakersfield California where today many of my relatives still reside. When my parents left for college in the mid 60's they made a promise to each other they would never live in Bakersfield again. Lucky for me they held true, and in 1977 I was born and raised in Placerville, California on the the west side of the Sierra just 45 miles east up highway 50 from the Central Valley. Though my father picked a career as an integrative pest management specialist in the San Joaquin Valley, he would never again live there. After a few years of driving to this region from Placerville 3 to 4 times a week, he decided he would just go ahead and get his pilots licence so he could fly himself to work in well under half the amount of time it took to drive. In those days a pilots licence only cost around $2,000 and within a few months he was up and flying. That was 1973, he's done this now for 35 years! Way to go Pops!

Anyways, my whole life I've been flying with my dad. Though we've taken some great trips to Baja, Northern California and Oregon, the majority of my time spent in the air has been in between Placerville and Bakersfield to visit the family. This flight is right smack over the the San Joaquin Valley. Usually flying at an altitude of five to six thousand feet, the view is spectacular with the Sierra Nevada on one side and the valley and coastal ranges on the other. Some of my earliest childhood memories are being in that plane glued to the window in awe of all I could see and wonder about, it was always so exciting. The valley seemed to stretch for ever, the grids of our growing food one after another, I really had no idea what was going on, I just liked looking at it.Then days later, flying north back to Placerville with the Sierra to the east all the way home. All I could do was marvel at the snow capped mountains with all the deep green gorges, the rivers like glinting slivers. 

It was not for many years later that I would begin to understand that land I'd been looking at for so long. Never could I see the the people living and working those fields or the stores and restaurants that served them. I could follow cars and trucks driving north and south on hwy 99 though I had not a clue of what they might be carrying, or where they might be going too. I could see the buildings and homes surrounded by great big trees in the middle of an orchard, but without a clue as to who might live in them and who might have built them, and when. I knew those colored checkers were food, though I had no concept of how it was watered  or where that water came from. 

well weren't, those just the days. Yes the world has become a much different place since then.

You grow up and everyday places seem to take on a whole new look. Not only in appearance but in your minds new awareness and understanding. Through the years that flight has never let me down. Not only has dad stuck it every time, while always pointing out the cool landmarks, but It's just never the same trip twice. With this new set of eyeballs, I can hardly wait for my next birds eye view of the richest agricultural valley of the world! It's good stuff!