As the year draws to a close, and the season of winter festivals begins, the oaks of Upper Ojai have great need of a mighty hunter who makes rain. May he rattle his oak-club thunderously in a hollow oak and stir our lightly chlorinated pool with an oak branch retrieved from the superfluity of boughs that lie beneath our trimmed trees.
Sadly, thunderous rattling, these forlorn days, is only likely to arise from a Harley Davidson careening along the State Highway which bifurcates the oak's magic-forsaken valley.
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