Aguanga

“Where is that?” Whenever anyone asks where I come from, and I answer, this is pretty much the question that ensues. Over the years the reactions have varied. Some people lift their eyebrows quizzically and pull up their lower lip, as if they want to look surprised, but the rest of their body won’t respond. Others rapidly blink several times, as if that will bring the answer into focus for them. A few even let their mouths hang open for a moment or two before I answer.

“It’s between Temecula and Palm Springs.” Then, no matter what his or her initial reaction, everyone lets out a knowing,
“oh!”

Aguanga is a small town. It’s up the hill from Temecula and right beside another largely unknown town, Anza. Because of its lack of publicity, not a lot of people live here, especially where compared to giant cities like Los Angeles and San Diego.

In comparison to them, Aguanga and Anza have nothing. Our most popular restaurant is Dairy Queen, where many of the students from Hamilton High School work at after class. That isn’t to say they have nothing at all. There’s the Anza market, the Hamilton Museum, a pizza place, a chapel, a True Values store, and at least two gas stations.

It is a place of sweeping meadows and fields perfect for gazing cattle. People can keep horses and ride them along the streets. People also let their dogs roam, although they’re not supposed to, and this means a blend between the wild and the domestic. What I mean to say is: some of the coyotes mate with the roaming dogs, and so it isn’t uncommon to see a dog that moves very much like a coyote gallop through the fields.

The nights are unlike anything down the hill. While they tend to be chiller, since we’re close to the mountains, they also have a majesty unheard of in large cities. On nights when the sky is clear, we can see a blanket of brightly-shining stars, between which winds the Milky Way. When the moon is full it provides enough light to see by, although I have yet to read outside at these moments.

The days and nights tend to be quiet and still. Until a few years ago, a week could past without a single car coming down our street.

People up here complain we are isolated, and how difficult it is to go anywhere, but I believe it is paradise. The whole world is so noisy and fast, but Aguanga is peaceful and slow.

Birds gather in groups in our backyard and shatter whenever anything or anyone disturbs them. We see hawks and vultures circling overhead often. I can look out my window and see a field of rabbits at play, or ground squirrels zipping from one tunnel to the next. Even the weasels have a home here; they squirm around the potted plants behind my house and run off with my dog’s kibble.
That is a taste of Aguanga. If I could find the words to adequately describe this world, I would, and probably fill a book in the process. Yet, for now, I need to be satisfied with a page.