Warm and clear. Our most fog-free month. Our warmest month. Nothing in the yards and gardens wants to quit. The fauna, the flora, they just keep going as the light gets shorter, the dark gets longer, the world cools toward what even here we call winter.
A few years ago, my sister Ann came out from Chicago about this time of year with Dan, my bro-in-law, and her kids, Soren and Ingrid. I don’t think it was a particularly storm winter for them, but there’s no mistaking the “spring” equinox in Chicago for actual spring. You may have a few balmy days under your belt by now, but you also know that winter can come back and dump on you any time (as it is right now well downstate from Chicago).
Anyway, when brother-in-law Dan is a gardener, and I remember how amazed he was to come out from the Midwest, where green stuff is still mostly cowering under cover, waiting for some signal that it’s safe to come out, and see everything that was in bloom at the same time here in our Mediterranean climate. It’s way too easy to get used to: we have a profusion of blossoms, fruit trees galore, odd and exotic species of many sorts, and most of the time I see all that only on the edge of what I’m really looking at–whether there’s a car bearing down on me as I cross the street or where the dog is headed next.
I think I’ve mentioned sometime since Christmas that my kids gave me a macro lens for Christmas. Its fine points are still a mystery to me, but it is a way of looking closer at a lot of the stuff (and flowers and foliage) I stroll past every day.