Winter here (the northern reaches of Southern California) is certainly not the same as winter there (pretty much all points north and east of here). But we do have our own version of winter. Overcast skies, chilly days and chillier evenings, and dry relentless brown everywhere, everywhere, relieved occasionally with brilliant patches of green on the hills when the winter rains arrive. Those blessed rains refill depleted reservoirs and wells, dust off the plants and trees to let their true colors come through, and give knitters a good excuse for hunkering down by the fire and knitting. They come with a price, though, in the form of deadly floods and landslides. The overnight frosts occasionally turn into hard freezes, and threaten the citrus and avocado crops here which so many farmers depend on. Luckily, we haven't yet had a freeze, and our local produce has been spared.
We have a young orange tree in our back yard, and I've been waiting since we moved here almost six years ago for a crop. For whatever reason, the tree would flower but never produce fruit. This year, though, my impatience has finally paid off, with a tree ripe with fruit and more flowers blooming, sending out the sublime scent of orange blossoms on the crisp air.
This morning, I picked my breakfast juice. How cool is that? Here's to winter.
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