Family in Tennessee have been sending me photos of the recent snow there.
In my usual smart ass curmudgeon manner, i reported it was cold here in the Southwest corner as well, and then added our highs barely got into the sixties and we almost had frost one morning. i did not point out yesterday was 72 and just about perfect. Today, i was glad i had not been that much of a…well, you know (someone reading this might take offense at my sailor language) because it turned Southwest corner winter again: highs bordering around sixty, cloudy with an ocean wind to make it seem chillier, and goodness knows (and i cleaned that up), it rained.
As i was dealing with all of this terrible weather, i remembered our Thursday and Friday respite. On Thursday morning i took my exercise walk along one of my routes. A section is a walking path along the edge of Bonita Canyon, a large open space area with hiking and riding trails (no off-road bikes, please) surrounded by development homes of which one is ours. Looking eastward from the path, i remembered my father being so amazed at the weirdness of Southwest corner winters and summers compared to back home. Here, the summers are brown and dry. Winters are…well, they are green.
i refrained from adding in my response to my family we also have white in the winter too. i’m not talking about an hour or so east of here where they do have snow, enough for skiing. i’m talking about right here in the heart of the Southwest corner. They are Japanese pear trees. The streets around us are surrounded by this winter whiteness. Each time i see one, i think of my Aunt Evelyn Orr, who in her last trip out here this time of year in 1990 was effusive about how beautiful they were.
We are in California, you know. Lots of folks not living in California and quite a few who do live in California throw darts at the state for many reasons. i have sworn off politics and i won’t go there. But there are really some people out here who are like a lot of people elsewhere not quite in the mainstream of the way we go about living. This one, on that Southwest corner winter wonderland day caught my eye.
i guess what i’m trying to say here is there are good people here and there are good people there, wherever you are Mrs. Calabash. The weather can be good or it can be bad wherever you are. It truly is (one of my best buddies of the curmudgeon golfing troupe likes to explain with “it truly is” and i like it) up to you.
Don’t throw rocks. Enjoy.
After all, i remember a magic place where winter was magical.