In the mountains, the weather does what it wants plans be damned–which means my current living is in conflict with my southern Californian upbringing–which is to say every where else in California, man seems to be able to manipulate just enough of nature or has subjugated it so long that it limps along quietly. Not so , the mountains. There’s a slight chance of rain and snow and that will undoubtably make my day harder and I have to remind myself over and over that these are good things.
It’s almost mid-March. We should be celebrating spring. Daffodils should be shooting up and perhaps somewhere they are and we are caught in an uneasy feeling, uneasy wishes. See, there was hardly any snow. We had a global warming sort of winter…it snowed all of three times and didn’t last. But we all started making fires in the fireplaces last September waiting…waiting. And now it’s March and we’re sick of waiting for the big snow storms. WE want the sun.
Driving the kids to school every morning means looking over at the creek and noticing how low it is. In March it should be fairly treacherous. I shouldn’t be able to see the island in the middle of the creek. I shouldn’t be able to walk to it from the creek banks and not even get my knees wet. But that’s where the water line isn’t. Which makes me think of how contaminated the water will be this year. Giardia from the nearby ranchers refusal to remove their cattle from waterways among other microbes will be uber present. The fire danger signs this summer will be bright code red all summer.
So I wait and hope for the sun. Even though the sun will only make it worse.