“When the wintry winds starts blowing
And the snow is starting in the fall
Then my eyes went westward knowing
That’s the place that I love best of all
California I’ve been blue
Since I’ve been away from you
I can’t wait ’till I get going
Even now I’m starting in a callCalifornia, here I come!
Right back where I started from
Where bowers of flowers
Bloom in the spring
Each morning at dawning
Birdies sing at everything
A sun kissed miss said, “Don’t be late!”
That’s why I can hardly wait
Open up that golden gate
California, here I come!California, here I come (yeaaaaaah!)
Right back where I started from
Where bowers of flowers
Bloom in the spring
Each morning at dawning
Birdies sing at everything
A sun kissed miss said, “Don’t be late!”
That’s why I can hardly wait (come on!)
Open up (open up! open up!) that golden gate
California, here I come!”“California Here I Come!”
Written by Bud de Silva and Joseph Meyer, 1924
Well, walking into the Sunshine Plaza at Disney’s California Adventure, on occasion you get to hear this song being sung by Al Jolson. And in the last week or so, the weather here in Northern California has been right as described in the lyrics. Thanks to a very un-seasonal offshore wind flow, it seems like early summer, not the end of winter.
California is often referred to as the “Golden State”. Contrary to popular myth, that should refer to the fact that once the rains end in May, most of the state turns brown. Grass stays green while the water falls from the sky and maybe a few weeks after that. But once the winds kick up and drive the moisture out of the air, it’s all done.
And if you’re one of those lucky folks with allergies, right now is the beginning of torture for you. With the winds starting up, all of those great pollens from all of the lovely blooms and grasses make your life a living hell. Thank your favorite deity for the folks who created all those wonderful medications to keep the wheezing, sneezing, watering eyes and more at bay!
Now I’ve never lived anywhere other than this area. (I can’t count those first six months in Germany as naturally I don’t have much to remember.) Been here and there on occasional excursions, and frankly, I’m a bit jealous. You see we get slightly cheated on the seasons here.
Not that we’re alone in that. From what folks tell me, there is no Spring in Alaska. More like a two-week period know as Break-Up where the ice melts and everything turns brown from all the resulting mud. And how do you tell Winter in Hawaii anyway?
Not that I’m complaining about what we have for weather here in California. Take the Bay Area for example. We have so many micro-climates that if you don’t like the weather, drive a bit and it changes. Dramatically. Take the summer. Out here in Livermore, the temperature can be hovering well over 100. Yet less than thirty miles to the west, that blessed event known as “fog” can be lingering, ready to make it’s way on shore and bring those temps back down into the livable.
But in a way, I do get a bit tired of dead, dry grasses as the summer progresses down here in the flatlands. A drive down the Five is somewhat depressing and illuminating as we realize that without irrigation, the Central Valley is just one big dry, dusty patch.
Years back in my Boy Scout days, I enjoyed a week long hike of about fifty miles from the south end of Lake Tahoe (near Echo Lake on Highway 50) to Tuolumne Meadows (north of Yosemite) along the Pacific Crest Trail. It was early July, and the snow pack was still melting. So things were still green and growing up there, while the brown was down below as usual. It was a great change of pace.
So, if you’re sitting at home, safe and warm inside with more than a few inches of snow on the ground out in the driveway, you have my sympathies and my jealousy all at the same time.
We do have fall out west, and when the leaves change colors, it is every bit as spectacular as it is in New England. It may not last as long, though. But a trip along the Truckee River west of Reno has every bit of color you might find elsewhere. The golden of the quaking aspens may not be as profuse as Colorado, but it is impressive.
Now to set the record straight, usually at this time of year, we get weather that brings the old slogan to mind. “March comes in like a lion and goes out like a lamb.” In some years we have seen rain of biblical proportions and flooding that starts folks building arks. Add in mudslides and other disasters and it’s more than fun! And on the roadways, people seem to forget how to driver after nice weather. Add rain to the roads and people driving faster than needed and it’s car mating season all over again.
The great thing about this is that it can all change again in only a few days. Right now, weather pundits predict we’ll enjoy this nice weather into next week and then who knows? Some say rain will be back, others can’t be sure. So much for advanced technology, huh?
With agriculture (legal and not so) such an important part of the state’s economy, we can use all the rain we can get. So here’s hoping for a few more cold and wet weeks over the next three months.
Don’t let that stop you from coming to visit us, and real soon!
Usually, here’s where I insert the plug for my Paypal Donation box. Instead, I’ll just say that I hope you will consider continuing your support of the Jim Hill Media site. While the need now is somewhat urgent and there has been a great response, it’s kind of an ongoing thing as well. The folks who use the message boards may note that there are opportunities there to keep those boards advertisement free, and I hope you’ll consider those as well – whether a donation or taking up one of the offers.
And yes, I too wonder how much it would take in the way of donation to have Jim finish up that “Light Magic” series. Think of it as one of the great un-finished works of his career, kind of like Beethoven’s unfinished symphonies.
Next week: Is print dead? Roger’s got a thought or two on the subject.