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My Neighborhood: South Chula Vista
Where I live in South Chula Vista has a decidedly different flavor than anywhere else in San Diego County. Even though Chula Vista has grown, especially to the east, South C.V. retains a small town/community feel. People still smile and greet each other as they pass on the sidewalk and here on the south side, people do still walk to the store or to pick up their children at school . . . the neighborhood is a busy, living and breathing entity, always moving, always growing.
Walking up the small hill that our house sits atop coming home from work in the early morning, I often pass a person or two who is heading down the hill to begin their day. We nod as we pass. A car starts up the block. Someone drives by with talk radio seeping out their window. The smell of corn tortillas on the grill. The neighborhood is waking up against the backdrop of another flawless sunrise. It will be a busy day in our working class neighborhood, a steady stream of cars and foot traffic as the sun hits its peak and the afternoon breeze picks up some cool air off the bay.
Standing on the corner, two doors down from my house, there are those few minutes every evening that surround me with breathtaking beauty. From the moment when the sun dips down and the last few colors of the sunset play off San Diego Bay until it’s just dark enough to turn to my left and see the lights on the hillsides in Tijuana popping on and sparkling like little diamonds, I am reminded of why I love to live here.
My Neighborhood: South Chula Vista
Where I live in South Chula Vista has a decidedly different flavor than anywhere else in San Diego County. Even though Chula Vista has grown, especially to the east, South C.V. retains a small town/community feel. People still smile and greet each other as they pass on the sidewalk and here on the south side, people do still walk to the store or to pick up their children at school . . . the neighborhood is a busy, living and breathing entity, always moving, always growing.
Walking up the small hill that our house sits atop coming home from work in the early morning, I often pass a person or two who is heading down the hill to begin their day. We nod as we pass. A car starts up the block. Someone drives by with talk radio seeping out their window. The smell of corn tortillas on the grill. The neighborhood is waking up against the backdrop of another flawless sunrise. It will be a busy day in our working class neighborhood, a steady stream of cars and foot traffic as the sun hits its peak and the afternoon breeze picks up some cool air off the bay.
Standing on the corner, two doors down from my house, there are those few minutes every evening that surround me with breathtaking beauty. From the moment when the sun dips down and the last few colors of the sunset play off San Diego Bay until it’s just dark enough to turn to my left and see the lights on the hillsides in Tijuana popping on and sparkling like little diamonds, I am reminded of why I love to live here.