Laura Tate
Keeping the balance
I am writing this column from a small coffee shop in Felton, in the county of Santa Cruz, which is about six hours north of Los Angeles. I lived here in the mountains studded with redwoods above Santa Cruz, and then later “in town” by the sea for about 10 years, during the prime “developing” period of my life, attending junior high and high school here. It was a move I didn’t want to make back when I was 12 years old, having moved practically every two years of my life and each time having to make new friends all over again.
But when we made the move, we drove up Highway 1 (we took the long way then), we marveled at the beauty of California’s coastline, the dramatic ocean-side cliffs, the redwoods that began to line the coastline and all the green surrounding everything. And we were also in awe driving up Highway 9, which starts in downtown Santa Cruz and takes you all the way to Palo Alto on the way to San Francisco, of all the seemingly thousands of stars we could see from the back of the pickup truck we were riding in. In Los Angeles, my brothers and I would lie on our backs in whatever front lawn of whatever home we were living in at the time and gaze at the few stars viewable through the smog (and bright lights) of Los Angeles’ skies. But this time, the stars were endless. It took our breath away. And our new home was right smack in the middle of redwood trees that covered one acre of land, with a babbling brook running through one side of the property. The new home was actually a redwood cabin—walls barely thicker than 1 1/2 inches and freezing in the winter time. But though my toes froze in the morning while waiting for the school bus, the beauty that surrounded me was, most of the time, worth the piercing pain of the cold.
I still marvel at the trees, the clear blue skies and the clean air every time I come up here. The changes, however, sadden me. Swaths trees have been cut down for new development: Costco’s, Wal*Marts and other big box retail stores have gone up. A tract development of oversized homes has replaced much of a local equestrian center near the Henry Cowell Redwoods State Park. The once modest shopping mall in Capitola, one of Santa Cruz’s charming little seaside towns, has expanded to a gross degree, as all shopping malls do. And the cost of living has gone way up; it’s comparable to Los Angeles. Little worn down cabins go for more than a half million, which is quite a lot for this area.
One thing that hasn’t changed, however, is the people. Santa Cruz has always been known as a “hippie” town. Birkenstocks, granola, holistic living … peace, love and all that jazz. Of course, not everyone is a so-called hippie; Santa Cruz is made up of a mix of different types of people. Like Malibu. There are the families, the working class, the super rich, the surfer live-for-the-wave type, and so on (perhaps Malibu has more-many more-celebrities). Another similarity is the constant battle between development and those who want to keep the charm and beauty that attracted its residents in the first place. And although I curse under my breath every time I see new development in Santa Cruz, I do notice there is a balance and an attempt in planning so as not to strip away the personality of this city.
I only hope that the people of Santa Cruz are smart enough, and strong enough, to keep fighting for this balance.