We are a week away from returning to Virginia. I’m not particularly excited about a return
to the land of cold and ice and sometime snow. Particularly the cold. I have
quickly adapted to a place where there is a minimum daily requirement of
sun—and if clouds intervene (or, god forbid, rain!) the populace, by and large,
apologizes for the weather. This is the place where, at 70 degrees and cloudy,
the local Jiffy-Lube manager tells us that the bad weather kept people home and
that’s why business is so slow today. Really? This is “bad weather”? Let me
take it off your hands, please.
It’s a blessing to walk out in the morning without a coat,
to eat at an outside table at a restaurant, to sip a cup of tea because it
tastes good, rather to have something simply to warm my hands. I like seeing
green things growing, and pink camellias blooming their hearts out in our yard.
But most of all, I love sitting at the kitchen counter with the sun warm on my
back and rainbows playing across the floor from the beveled glass window in the
family room. It’s liberating to make plans without factoring in the possible
disruption of (truly) bad weather, be it snow and ice or even heat and
humidity. It’s nice here. Almost all the time.
Don’t get me wrong. I don’t think any place can compare to
Alexandria in the spring, when gardens wake up to daffodils and tulips, and the
parkway trees turn green almost overnight. Dogwoods and redbuds are
spectacular, probably because of the contrast with their winter selves. And after a long, hot, meltingly humid
summer, the first crisp morning of fall is a thing to be savored. But…there is
always a ‘but’… February in San Diego is a guilty pleasure and I am loving it.
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