Every year I’ve been here in the mountain bunker there is a time in February that loudly announces the End of Winter. A week or more of balmy nights, days in the mid-70s, bright sunshine. Might as well plant the garden.
And every year I’ve been here that False Spring is jerked away, often with a blizzard and a major run on the firewood pile.
It’s happening again. Oh, Lord, make me strong.
One thought on “Ah, California”
One fine autumn day you stepped up to bail me out of jail on a hokey pot bust. I never got to say thank you for your courage.