Have you seen him? I happened to look up one day, over at our Topanga Mountains, as we were driving down toward PCH. From the passenger seat, I lazily mused over such thoughts as what a great singer Van Morrison is, the need to return the library books, if violet is really an attractive color for nail polish, the possible end of the world, and just then, at that moment, I happened to look up. I was so startled I really couldn’t quite believe my eyes. But I knew it was true and somehow it made perfect sense. For a moment I didn’t speak, just keeping the sighting to myself, like a secret, as if by acknowledgement, it might vanish and disappear. I waited, breathlessly to wind the corner so I could get an unobstructed view again. Yes, there it was, clear and concise, magical and majestic, wise and whimsical, old and young, perched looming on the mountainside: a large gleaming alien face. The white rock formation presented a perfect impression of a classic big-eyed alien countenance, slightly pointed at the chin, and even decked with some foliage, sprouting antenna-like from the forehead. The overall visage gave the impression of an otherworldly, benevolent being, not at all menacing, more elf-like and kind.
“Look, the alien,” I speak simply, pointing and directing the beleaguered husband’s gaze momentarily from the road and up the hill.
“Wow!” he replies. “It is, look at that.”
Then we turn the twisting road and the image is lost behind us, somewhere left on the mountainside, watching and waiting patiently for someone else to look up. We are excited, stunned, as if we have discovered something wonderful, been given a glimpse of a miraculous thing, hidden all the time in plain sight.
“How long has that been there?” asks Mike. “And why haven’t we ever seen it?”
“Maybe he just landed,” I muse.
My husband continued, “I wonder how many people know about it? It looked just like an alien. Didn’t it even have some kind of antenna?”
“Yes, I saw it,” I answered.
We drove on happily, intrigued about our discovery and the prospect of seeing it again.
The next day heading down the mountain, I am stupidly distracted, running somewhat late, debating the orange or pink lipstick, when suddenly I remember the alien. How have I forgotten him? I look over not sure if I have already passed him. Scanning the hills, still watching the road, I see him not. I can’t recall where along the canyon he was located. Behind me, still ahead? The anticipation of another sighting is exciting and I almost want to turn around and start over, driving slowly, methodically checking each turn but, alas, I must press on without a glimpse, to face a day that now seems mundane and predictable, almost as if the color of one’s lipstick doesn’t matter.
Topanga has a history of alien encounters. Maybe it’s something to do with a magnetic pull, underground currents, certain rock formations, sacred Chumash sites or the lingering sound of rock and roll still carried in our very air.
Long ago, newly arrived in the Canyon, I collected from the Fernwood Market bulletin board a flyer depicting a group of people standing near a barn while a flying saucer loomed large overhead, beams of light flowing down. It’s hard to tell if the citizens of earth are alarmed or amazed but I like to think they are thrilled and even feel privileged to witness such a sight, that their lives will never be the same knowing that in the vast universe anything is possible and that we are not alone.
Along the bottom of the flyer, in old-school typewriter font (for this was the early ‘90s) reads:
URGENT! ! ! ! !
Have you seen UFOS OVER TOPANGA? You’re not alone. Dozens of Topanga residents have reported UFOs. If you have had a UFO encounter in Topanga or just want to know more, call (818) 348-3892. Ask for Preston.
Back in 2006, I met and interviewed Preston Dennett for the Topanga Messenger, regarding his book, “UFOs Over Topanga,” and asked him to sign the flyer. His many interviews with Topanga residents who had experienced encounters with UFOs was certainly an enjoyable and provocative read. And, yes, now and then I scan the skies, with the sense that we little people of earth, are but part of a grand and glorious universe and if we but evolve to being the noble race we truly are we might yet take our part in it. Unfortunately, we seem to be moving backwards, but maybe that’s when help shows up.
I have now identified the location of the alien. Going south on TCB, about 1.2 miles, from the town center, he is at the top of the S-Curves on the east side of the mountain.
Now, we have noticed something else. He seems to change depending on the time of day and the lighting. Passing him one morning he appeared to look like no more than some melting vanilla ice cream dripping down the side of the mountain. Another day he seemed to be missing an eye and not happy about it.
“We’ll show you the alien!” we tell our daughter as we pass by. “Look! See? See, there he is!”
But she doesn’t see and thinks we are crazy and even I have to question our sanity for, maybe, we’ve taken to imagining things in some last desperate grasp at hope or magic or God. Yet the next day there he is, vivid as ever. Perhaps he has somewhere else to be or can only manifest at certain times, sadly fading according to the state of the human race.
In the meantime, he keeps sporadic watch over us all as we come and go, living our lives, dreaming our dreams and he waits for us—as he may have been doing for centuries—to evolve into something gleaming and proud, filled with grace and love, standing hand in hand.
Look up.
