First off, I'll say that I'm thankful Saratoga has a two-lane traffic artery as one of its main entrances. That would be Saratoga Avenue, which has been designated a Heritage Lane for something over a mile of its length. The story goes that it was the route followed by the Indians who were sent back into the hills to get timber for buildings at Mission Santa Clara. Later, it was the route used by the stagecoaches that came into town. Whatever its antecedents, the street today radiates rural charm, with large trees bordering and, in some instances, sending their limbs over the thoroughfare. Homes along the street all seem to blend with the landscape.

What constitutes a pleasant drive for most, with a 35-mph speed limit, seems to be thoroughly irksome to some motorists who can't wait—and often don't—to get nearer freeway speed. Their irritation shows, and my heart bleeds for these drivers.

I'm also thankful that the city has seen fit to preserve the Heritage Orchard. This is not only a scenic treat, with its background of hills, but it represents an important element of the city's past. After the lumbering era, orchards were the main reason for the community's existence. Campbell in later years claimed the title of "The Orchard City," but it could have applied to some other localities as well, Saratoga being one. Today, when some of our distinguishing features seem to be multimillion-dollar homes, I like to think of a motto used by some historical organization in explaining the significance of a museum: "How can you tell where you're going without knowing where you have been?" I may not have the details entirely correct, but the idea is there:

Appreciate the past in terms of its impact on the present and future.

Another aspect of Saratoga that I treasure and for which I am grateful is the spectacle of the hills—mountains if you will—behind the town. One can especially appreciate the scope of this phenomenon when, driving south toward the Village on Saratoga-Sunnyvale Road, suddenly there appear these majestic mountains (hills?) at about where Marion Avenue (who said Road?) intersects. Here, nature's majesty exists in a matchless spectacle discernible to all. Aren't these mountains (hills) our protectors?

The hills (mountains) really define the town geographically. Los Gatos claimed the designation of "The Gem City of the Foothills." I think we have an equal claim, foothill-wise. We could have claimed both the titles of "Gem" and "Orchard," but where would it have gotten us? Saratoga is what it is, and we don't need any public-relations help.

Going on to Saratoga's attributes for which I am thankful, I can't overlook this community's affinity with the arts. It's a long list. Here was James Duval Phelan, a U.S. Senator from 1916 to 1922 and a member of a wealthy San Francisco real estate family, who had Villa Montalvo built in 1912 as a center for the arts. Phelan died in 1930, but his estate has been preserved as a center for the arts.

There was Dorothea Johnston's Theater of the Glade behind the old Saratoga Inn which flourished from 1934 to 1941 and gave local girl Olivia De Havilland a boost on her movie career. There are art galleries in the downtown business section, the latest of which has just opened at 14414 Oak St. as the Golden Oak Gallery, next to the Book-Go-Round, under the proprietorship of Rebecca Dye and Hank Helbush, well known as landscape architects. This gallery expands their scope to include visual arts and fine craftsmanship. They have taken an old building and turned it into a work of art. Very Saratoga. It's the kind of thing you'd expect in this town, and I'm thankful for it.