Not Just Blue
And, lest you think I’m only frolicking about sticking my toes in as many parts of the ocean as possible (which is mostly true, but I like to maintain the appearance of a more well-rounded explorer), I bring you some non-watery bits.
As we drive around up here, The Boy and I both keep wondering if the plants are supposed to be that color. Where we live, that would mean everything was completely and totally dead. But I’ve been assured that no, that’s just what they look like here this time of year. It makes for a bit of an adjustment if you’re from more verdant climes, but it is rather pretty.
Winter is the season when all is green and lovely, now the danger of fire is ever present. The coastal fog rolls in during the late afternoon covering the trees and grass with a cozy blanket that cools and refreshes in SF and down the coast to Monterey and Big Sur. It softens the harsh summer winds, quiets the sound of the ocean and make the sound of fog horns seem so comforting. I think that is why I love the fog so much, it was always soothing and calming. Do you remember the two oil paintings of the California hills that we have had nearly forever. Now you know why they always traveled with us and why SF is my favorite American big city.
This looks as if you look hard enough, you’ll see a little house on the prairie.