By Barbara Steinberg
We flee our urban environs by way of traffic-laden Highway 99. Sightings of an occasional raptor or egret remind us this was once a wilder realm. We are grateful when just beyond Merced, now on Hwy. 140, the landscape is suddenly pastoral. No track homes or strip malls. Just wide-open spaces, lush and green, neatly hemmed by nearly invisible barbwire fences. The carefully rowed orchards, and cattle lazily munching tender green shoots, comfort this weary traveler’s gaze. Slow rolling hills, stretching far…read more>
2013 May >
Previous: « Russian Valley Winegrowers Raise A Glass To Toast… What Else? Wine! | Next: Claw Your Way to CA Lobster Festival Season »