When you grow up in Newport Beach, you really don’t get to experience the splendor of Fall.
The weather there is so predictably temperate, with its sunny skies and the occasional sprinkle that brings traffic to a grinding halt. The Santa Ana winds come though, chasing all the smog off shore. How ironic that it’s pollution that produces those spectacular, retina-searing sunsets that Southern California’s so famous for.
Fall in the Bay Area
When I moved up to Marin in the late 80s, it was quite a change for me. Our house was on a street lined with huge Maples. For two weeks every Fall, we’d have to clear the driveway of leaves every time we took the car out.
Now I live in the City, and although it’s not as bucolic as my old home in Marin, Autumn in San Francisco is still a feast for the eyes.
This year Fall was unusually late. The trees didn’t drop their leaves until mid-December. It was like someone forgot to send out the memo and they were all waiting around for a cue. But when that cue finally came, the neighborhood was magically transformed overnight.
I love Autumn – it’s my favorite time of year.
But not for my Girls...
Fall is when chickens moult – and mine do so explosively, looking all the world like victims of a brutal barnyard assault.
Poor things, they must be horribly uncomfortable. For the next two months they'll sulk under the deck chairs until their new feathers grow in and they're no longer so self-conscious.
A pretty Liquid Amber leaf waits for a date with the wind.
A mound of gloriously colorful pumpkins ushers in the Fall.
The golden leaves of Ginkos are all over now when I walk in the mornings.
Beer tastes best when enjoyed with dear friends.
By my bus stop there's an old manhole cover embedded with purple glass.
Neighborhood fire hydrant B2770
It was an unusually cold night that left ice in the bed of my truck.