Winter Musings
Saturday, October 31, 1999
Seasons in California seem to be like everything else here: different for no other reason than to be different. I miss seeing the seasons change outside my kitchen window. Yet the signs of winter are unmistakable: We've had our first rainstorm, the first rain in more than 2 months. This is good for the golden hills (personally I prefer the description "Teddy bear brown"), which are dry and prone to brush fires at the slightest spark. Soon the hills will turn green once again. Then they will turn to mud and slide. Then the owners of the cliff / water front property will tear at their clothes and beat at their breasts that it is unfair and the state should save their investments from the ravages of a predictable natural process. The first rains also bring on the annual outbreak of stupid-driver-itis. A malady that afflicts normally reasonable drivers that robs of them their god-given common sense to slow down when it rains. Thus, every major artery was clogged with accidents for half the night. Thus the seasons go in California.
Here in the marina we've had a few early warning signs that the winter was approaching. The coots are back in force. Coots are black feathered water birds with red eyes and green and white striped chicken feet. Sort of a badly made duck. They swim badly and fly even worse. The make a honking sound that is loud and grating and seems to come from all directions. At night they raft up in the fairways of the marina. They are dark upon dark, floating in the dark, still water. Coots like the coming weather just fine. It is a confirmation of their oddness that they winter here. On the other hand the geese are here, for only a little while. They're on the way somewhere else, where it will be warm. Another sure sign that winter is coming.
There'll be a few more days of Indian Summer, which will lull us into a false sense of security. Sooner or later, we'll have to break out the heater and wool socks. And the umbrella.
Copyright © 1999 Ken Mayer