Photos or words hardly deliver the ingrained sensual memory of those cherished Autumn Daze of youth. In the morning when you woke up one could tell what the day would bring. The offshore breeze carried a much different variety of smells - grasses from the hills of Marin, petroleum from the refineries in the East Bay, or roasting coffee from the packing houses along the Embarcadero. You knew that any glimpse of the ocean would show it was flat as glass with beckoning sets rolling in. The day invited one to fetch their board, a towel and swim wear. The walk to school never happened, peeling off instead to head to Kelly’s Cove or choice places along Ocean Beach. The sun warmed air and rhythmic sets provided carefree joy among compadres. By afternoon it seemed half the other side town had remembered Ocean Beach. The fresh sea air blended with traffic exhaust and fragrances from the cafes and food stands at Playland at the Beach. Conga drummers set a steady beat, as flute and saxophone blended music. Crowds dressed in street clothes and heels gathered along the seawall and spilled down stairwells to the sand. Time it seemed, stood still. Many stayed to watch the Sun dip into the sea. Later, one was asked, 'How was school today?" "Pretty good." came the answer.
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