The Air Out There

The weather is changing. And it's during the chaotic shifting of seasons that I enjoy it the most. In my mind I picture the seasons like...different bodies of water, and the point where they collide with each other, mixing and  forming eddies is the most interesting, unpredictable and beautiful in my opinion. That's what it feels like now. We had a really rainy spring, and I totally enjoyed every minute and ounce of it, but in the last week or so I have smelled summer in the air. One minute it's foggy, cold, and the air smells like Christmas, and then an hour later it's sunny, and HOT, and smells like four o'clock in the afternoon on the 4th of July. It's really great. The proximity of the different "moods" of these strange days to each other really makes you sit up an notice the change in temperature, smells and all the subtle contrasts that would normally escape you. Sometimes, you can experience all four seasons ONE day! Those are the best of the best!  For example:

Leaving the house in the morning I might smell rain, and a crispness in the air that is typical of late winter early spring. I might pull my scarf tighter around my neck and regret having worn a skirt as the wind wraps me in it's damp icy fingers. I might notice the low laying gray clouds hugging the mountain tops on my way to the office, and flick my windshield wipers on for a couple passes to clear the tiny beads of mist from the glass.

Then around noon as I take a walk to the grocery store to get my apple, I might have to put on and take off my sunglasses three or four times as the clouds battle with the sun for supremacy. I might feel the heat starting to radiate from the road into the soles of my feet, but then the autumn-like breeze erases all traces of it...momentarily. Maybe the last of the dead leaves from fall are shaken from the branches of some trees while the newly budded leaves of the poplar trees rustle and sparkle in the bursts of sunshine. It's like an eddy of spring and fall rolling across the landscape, crashing into the trees and me.

Then after work, I might don my sweats and decide to go for a run. I might step out into the blazing sun, and have to squint in the brightness. Beads of sweat begin to form even before I start. The sun won out, and is beating down on everything like a heat lamp turned on high. I might make my way down the sidewalk as scents of summer hit me one after another, all distinct and ...dry roasted. Pine needles, asphalt, barbecue, licorice, bay laurel, whiz past my nose as I follow my route. A burst of spice might fill the air as I pass under a pepper tree, grinding the little seeds with my shoes. The sticky scent of jasmine might descend upon me as I run past the hedge, so thick that I feel almost like I am running through honey. There is no moisture though, it has been squeezed away, banished to the coast. It's like running in a sauna.

Then at night, after dinner and dark, I might decide to take the trash out. The heat of the day has vanished. It's almost like it never existed at all. It's cool,  like it was in the morning, but still dry. It's invigorating. Wind chimes sound from the neighbors patio and I look up at the cloudless sky and full moon. It feels like a late fall/ early winter eve. If you could bottle and sell air, this is the kind everyone would rush to the store to buy. Fresh, clean, clear, and just slightly fragrant. I might head back inside, crack the kitchen window for the burst of freshness, and then turn on my fireplace and put on my warm socks and watch a movie.

All that can happen on a spring (or fall) day out here in California. And those are the days I love the most.