Santa Cruz Mountains
Selections from Documentary Book & Text Project
When I was 28 we got married in my parent’s backyard in Ohio. A month later we moved to a sunny but chilly spot in a redwood forest in Northern California. John’s grandmother Vera’s friend rented us her Santa Cruz Mountain cottage. We were told to cooperate with the neighbors next door who lived in the adjacent small studio. We then realized that we would be living on common ground.
Over the last seven years we've had four different sets of neighbors.
Did they hear us?
Any of them?
John and I yelled a lot in the early years.
Now we just whisper in bed.
I say, “Is it going to be OK?”
He says, ”It always is.”
Sharing this space, this common space, it’s been (un)common.
I hope they don’t move.