There are still patches of snow on our lawn. Yesterday, I woke up to a fresh coating of white all over everything. Around here, in the New York City suburbs, everybody wants to know when winter will be over. Many have escaped to warmer climates for spring break. Our spring break was a few weeks ago, in Northern California. We rented an AirBNB house in Sebastopol, a town about 50 miles north of San Francisco. As I recover from my strained muscles from shoveling snow, I’ve been enjoying browse images from a morning walk.
Spring had arrived and everything was bursting into bloom. The woman who owns the house keeps chickens, and it seems everyone on the road has farm animals—and/or a vineyard. I learned that llamas like to eat apple cores and peels.
And then it was on to a day at the beach at Bodega Bay, watching the Pacific break over the rocks, and a picnic.
What is surprising about all these scenes is that California is in the midst of the drought crisis. California looked green driving all the way to Los Angeles. I’ve seen it much browner along Highway 101. Today, Governor Jerry Brown imposed water restrictions on homeowners and farms and other businesses. We shall see what the summer and fall, the growing and harvest seasons, bring.
Pray for rain. Lots of it.