Memory is a curious thing. For me, pure memory (one without emotion) is like a photograph or moving picture, with a main element in crisp focus and peripheral elements out of focus – either slightly fuzzy or very blurry.
I was reminded just how curious memory can be during my last visit to Anderson Valley in May. On a whim, I drove down Clearwater Ranch Road near Philo. During the early portion of my three decades in Anderson Valley that began in 1957, I went down Clearwater Creek Road often, either to see family friends Leo and Edna Sanders, or to visit classmate George Mason. However, I hadn’t been down the road in nearly 45 years.
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