January 2022

Seasons

photo from Flikr via Weebly. May not be copied or edited.

People in North America and Europe tend to think of the seasons as they are depicted in stories,songs,  movies and even comics. Seasons are specific weather, the plant cycle, the animal cycles, and traditions for humans: special foods, special activities and holidays.
 Autumn is falling leaves, crisp cold air, apple cider, harvest time. We celebrate Halloween with pumpkins and Thanksgiving with turkey, corn stalks and more pumpkin. Winter is cold, with snow and ice. We build snowmen, go skiing or skating, drink cocoa by the fire. The trees are bare. Spring is lilacs, bulbs sprouting and flowering, rain showers followed by sun, warming air, cherry blossoms. The first strawberries, freshly sprouted greens. And summer is hot, time to go to the beach, trees in full leaf, cherries, ice cream, sodas, picnics and barbecues on a lush green lawn.  Outside living. Interrupted by a brief thunderstorm. 
​These symbols are not wrong but they are provincial and stereotypical. 
Meanwhile, I have heard many people say that the Bay Area has no seasons. Having grown up here, I can attest that these people are wrong. We do not have the Hallmark card Christmasses or dream of a White Christmas (except to drive to the Sierras), many of our trees are still in leaf in January, and the grass is green in Winter, brown in Summer. But we have seasons, albeit a bit more subtle here. One must be tuned into Nature to feel our seasons. We do celebrate the traditional holidays the same as on the East Coast, but with a slight change. And our diverse community means that many other holidays are celebrated as well, such as Divali, Moon Festival, Eid al Fiitr, Rosh Hashana, and Juneteenth. The photo essay that follows are my thoughts and feelings about our seasons in the Bay Area. I'd love to hear from readers if they agree or disagree and what are your favorite parts to each season.

Autumn

Making apple cider at Loma Vista Farm in Vallejo

Autumn, to me, is the beginning of the year. First of all, it is the beginning of the school year. And I spent 20 years in school as a student and another 21 years as a teacher. Then too, the rainy season begins in late Autumn. Every year, usually near the end of August, there is one day when I feel Autumn coming. The day is warm with a light wind and the air is dry. The days are colder in Vallejo, 20 miles to the North, and warmer in Berkeley, the reverse of the Spring and Summer days. After Labor Day is the true beginning of Autumn. Gradually, leaves turn colors on the trees. Harvest is in full force. We bring in tomatoes and make tomato sauce, cook zucchini and make soup, stuff a large zucchini, and still have plenty to give away. And apples! Apple pie, apple sauce to last the entire Winter. The freezer is full. 
Then there are the holidays. Stereotypical and provincial as they are, I grew up with these holidays and they still mean something special to me. Autumn brings the harvest holidays for many cultures. It brings the Moon Festival, when one eats mooncakes, and Diwali, festival of lights, and Sukkoth, another harvest festival. But most popular is Halloween, a time for kids to dress up and go out at night. Spooky decorations and carved pumpkins.  Then comes Thanksgiving, a holiday to spend with family, and interestingly one that has been less commercialized than other holidays.  Cooking together, sharing food, and sharing a meal. And a chance to eat turkey. Roast turkey with gravy, hot turkey sandwich, cold turkey sandwich until finally I have had enough turkey to last me a while.  A cornucopia centerpiece filled with Fall produce, which in the Bay Area usually includes a pomegranate, sometimes kiwis, and lemons. And Fall leaves dipped in melted wax to preserve them. Traditionally, I plant my bulbs on Thanksgiving weekend.  A promise of Spring to come. 

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Creek in the Berkeley Hills, January 2022

 Sometime in November, the rains arrive (hopefully) and Winter is here in the Bay Area. The skies are gray and cloudy, days are shorter and nightfall earlier. And best of all, the hills turn green. Every year, I watch the hills, rejoicing when I see green grass sprouting and worrying when the hills are still brown. Not golden as in the summer but more a more sickly parched brown. This year, they turned green on time! More time is spent indoors. In December, the kiwis grow large and ripen. Then it is a race to pick them before the squirrels eat them all.  In the store and at market, mandarins arrive, juicy sunshine. 
December is a holiday month. Like others, I put up lights at the beginning of the month to brighten the dark evenings. I decorate the house with Christmas scenes and I set up an advent wreath. Some years, there is a Christmas tree. Aa a child, the Christmas tree was the centerpiece, surrounded by wrapped presents that we could see but not touch. Eager anticipation. Then there was the display put on by Mr. Shadi, an Indian Sikh who, despite his origin and religion, put on a full Bethlehem display every year. I knew that  display from my early childhood and it has now been taken on by volunteers so that it lives beyond its creator. A true gift to the community. 
 As an adult, I attend the Christmas Revels, the Messiah sing along, and the Christmas Eve service. I sing Christmas carols in the car, at home alone, in my singing group. I love Christmas carols, always have, and have learned at least 100 of them in various languages. As a teacher, I loved planning holiday lessons in Math, Language Arts, and Art, singing holiday songs, and the general aura of festivity. 
The last days of December have always been a letdown to me. The presents were opened and no longer a focus of anticipation but simply things. The holiday festivities ended and financial tasks awaited. While teaching, I did no schoolwork the week before Christmas but then had to do it all the following week before classes started again. Today, it is more an end to the festivities and activity and a time for quiet reflection. 
But January brings its own pleasures. While there is still welcome rain, one day I see the tulip trees are blooming, a harbinger of Spring to come. The bulbs begin to poke up their green leaves. The days imperceptibly begin to grow longer. Spring is on its way.

Spring

In the Bay Area, Spring comes in February. The plum and cherry trees are in full blooms, other trees begin to leaf out, the robins return. My mother used to buy the first strawberries for my father's February birthday. Valentine's Day fits Spring with its pinks and reds and message of love. Tulips and daffodils are blooming. Easter too, is a fitting holiday, and indeed, it was born of ancient Springtime rituals and the equinox. Its symbols herald the budding life of Spring: eggs, chicks, flowers and grass. There is the cherry blossom festival as well. There are (hopefully) days of rain showers interspersed with sunshine and rainbows. Windy days, just right for kites. Roller skating and swings. Robins arrive.  The ospreys return to begin nesting. Spring is fresh and new, birth and life, babies, new sprouting plants. Time for children to play outside. And time to plant the vegetable garden. There is May Day, celebrated by but a few. And Mother's Day, for what better month in which to honor those who bring us life and love and family. 
I used to hear that Spring was wonderful in the East and that California had no Spring. I would counter that the Eastern Spring may be more spectacular, with its lilacs and the snow melted, but it is fleeting, while our Spring, filled with bird song and blossoms of all colors and sunny days, lasts four months.

​Summer

Summer on the lake in Northern Ontario

Summer is for relaxing and enjoying the sun, at home and elsewhere.

Cannon Beach, Oregon

In late May comes summer. Along with cherries. Hot summer days, sunning on the beach. Not. Summer in the Bay Area, at least by the Bay, is fog. Warm days and cool nights. As a child, I would change my clothes several times a day in the summer: first long pants and a jacket in the morning, later shorts and a short-sleeved shirt, then back to the jacket in the evening. But always barefoot, for the pavement held the heat of midday. A jacket and shorts was de rigueur. Summer, of course, meant vacation from school. As a student, time to just loaf or find activities of my own. Play time with friends. And family vacations. My favorite of these were the times we went camping. Lots of outdoor time. Popsicles and lemonade. Picnics. As an adult and teacher, summer was a welcome relief, time to rest then to plan the following school year. Perhaps a trip somewhere. Time to clean up and do all the household chores I had neglected during the school year. Time to work in the yard every day. Precious time. For seven years, I enjoyed the arrival of the next Harry Potter book just as school got out. I silently thanked Scholastic for timing the books' arrival to coincide with the end of the schoolyear. I could just sit and read all day and night for several days.
 The only real summer holiday is July 4th. It has never been my favorite holiday. The fireworks didn't impress me all that much and reminded my of bombs. In recent years, I worry about their effect on the ospreys and other birds nesting. Still, they can be fun to watch. Of course, many years, the fog obscures one's view. Our well-loved fog, so loved that it has been named Karl.  The symbol of summer in the Bay Area. 
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JM Weighs in:

Time and Change

Time does not flow!
It does not come
And it does not go.
Change is perceived
And time is conceived.
Time is a concept,
And change, a reality.

​Let Be

Let live what can and wills to live
Let die the tired and spent.

Each creature has its span of time
In tune with nature's way.

Let be what is and what was meant to be,
And let life take its lotted course, no less. 

                                    Vain Questions

                              Whence, whither, why?
                              The mysteries of life!
                              We'll never cease to ask
                               And we'll never know. ​

Piccola's Seasons

On cold winter mornings, I like to sit on the heater vent.

In the Spring and Summer, I like to go outside to explore.

Chewing on my birthday present, August 19, 2018

Trying to get that elusive Christmas present that I already stripped of its fur.