The Myth Of No-Season

Recently, I heard a Californian lady lamenting a recent usage of the age old line, all of us trot out to avoid her state: "Oh man, I don't think I could ever live here. I'd miss the seasons."






I'm not saying the seasons are exactly the same as New England....and I would still miss snow at Christmas but I have to say that I am pleasantly surprised by all the little autumnal bits around me.





I am sure it drives Californians insane to hear me say it but I honestly didn't know if there would be pumpkins to pick and carve (duh!!! Pumpkins like hot weather like the other vine crops.), cider to drink (turns out apples grow beautifully in California) or anything festively fallish to see.






I have to set minds at ease and stories straight and tell you that there is real autumn in California. There are trees turning bright gold and lipstick red (several species of maple and many others) and lots of streets where an aisle of sycamore has dropped crackling piles of brown leaves to kick through. Yes, there are also fresh strawberries at the farm stand down the road and I won't pretend that my mind isn't a little bewildered by this time-warpy effect but...autumn is unmistakably here too.












Every morning when I get up and hustle into my robe I wish I had brought some pajamas that had long sleeves. A goes out running and invariably reports back at breakfast that the morning chill is in the 30's and the 40's. The other night walking with the cousin children along the trick-or-treating route we were all shivering along, breathing steamy clouds into the air, talking fondly about the hot cider at home when I noticed it was fall here too. I didn't go away and miss anything seasonally.






So, this is just me....setting the record straight, letting you know....there are seasons in California after all.


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