“Watch those lights off the coast,” my mom instructs. We’re driving through an inky night, northbound on Highway 101 towards Santa Barbara. I do as advised, my gaze wobbling between the beacons of the distant oil rigs and the narrow, winding highway. Unsure what I’m waiting for, the illusion of perspective suddenly unveils itself. The glittering lights, previously scattered, glide into alignment, as if Santa’s sleigh has descended, skimming inland along the pier. Magical. The unownable view feels like a secret gift. Her parents revealed it to her in the 1960s. Now, in another millennium, she shares it with me.
Annika Speer is a professor specializing in theatre, communication, and storytelling in the Department of Theatre, Film, and Digital Production at University of California, Riverside.