CCountryside places are reacefull

It was a Tuesday in late October when I first truly saw Otay Valley.I had driven past it a hundred times, always in a hurry, always with somewhere more important to be. But that afternoon, my car sputtered and died on the old road near the trailhead, and I had no choice but to wait.I climbed a small hill out of frustration. Then the valley opened up before me — golden grass rippling like a slow tide, red-tailed hawks circling lazily overhead, and the creek below catching the last light of the sun like scattered coins.I sat there for two…