The creek smells of damp leaves and dirt. The creek that runs through town carries the rich mix. The waterflow pushes the earth to sea. Deposits of rich soil line its banks, deepen its bed. Pacific wind blows creek scent through town mixed with bakeries baking and coffee roasteries burning beans. It was a town in which an old lady could walk unmolested down Main Street. The greasy, redolent air of Popeye’s Chicken House hovers the organic, vegan, range-fed grocer’s parking lot. Inland, on freeways, drivers don’t let dogs stick noses out open windows inhaling sea scents and low tide as they do on Highway 1.

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