It's fall in San Francisco. Having never experienced Northern California at this change in the seasons, there seems to be not a lick of rhyme or reason to it, which makes it all the more exciting. For someone who has grown up in a temperate zone with four cut and dry seasons, I'm enjoying this delightful deviation from the ordinary.
There's a definite dichotomy going on across the landscape. You might look in one direction to see the crinkled leaves of the sycamores taken by the breeze. As they drop onto the sidewalk you feel a slight chill in the breeze and you've become convinced that the doors of winter have firmly closed behind you when suddenly you turn a corner and see an enormous glowing pink bougainvillea spilling over a garden fence, blooming with abandon.
There really are still flowers everywhere, early blossoms even. And, I think they're really going to stick around since I know the Anna's Hummingbird plans on it. Hummers feed on nectar and insects so their very presence foretells a land of mild winters. This very phenomenon that doesn't happen back east - our ruby throats take off for warmer climes as soon as the first fall chill. So, to see hummingbirds remain on into winter makes me feel like the cold months are that much more bearable.
And further yet the dichotomy persists. Yes, there are definitely fall colors afoot; the leaves are turning. There are sweet gums that are bright reddish orange, gingkos in screaming shades of yellow, leaves crunch underfoot but then you look up at some evergreen tree and see a flock of cherry-headed conures, gregarious, tropical birds that, like the hummingbird, aren't making any move to leave.
So Surly and I keep plugging along, watching the days go by and seeing what intrigue nature uncovers next.