Wintry, blustery days…remain a stranger to the shores of southern California. We never see snow, we never see ice, we never see crystallized car windshields.
Winter everywhere else:
Winter in California:
In other words, we’re a mess after a winter storm.
This past week, our lapse back into colder temperatures of 60-something degrees Fahrenheit had us all busting out the boots and coats. Well, at least I was. In honor of this unusual bout of cold weather, I’d like to take some time to consider what winter really means.
A Short Poem about Winter (Obviously)
When breezes become biting gales
In every city far and near,
Nipping every reddened ear,
Tripping every tumbling leaf –
Reddened hues are cooled in white –
Yellow mold is hid from sight –
Dancing motes of short-lived snow
Awaken from their cloud abodes
Yearning for that winter bed
Soft upon the ground
Suppose this were to happen
On a LA winter morn, –
Californian sunshine rays would sooner
Attack with eyes ablaze! –
Little flecks of snow will all be razed.