January was so warm and clear and beautiful that it had lulled me into a false sense of security. It was as if winter would slip right past this mountain without leaving so much as a ripple to show its passing. I got complacent about winter preparations and how hard winter up here can be, mentally, as well as physically. I basked in the early, false spring along with my plants. It was better than summer, or even spring in some respects, as the bugs had not been given the signal to begin their season, and so, I had the outdoors to myself.
Then came February. Some of the storms were brutal, here, and elsewhere in California, but Big Sur danced through and around these storms with her cloak of passion swirling in the shouting winds. Her adornments went from early bloomings to mountains turned a winter white. We responded with the child-like wonder, we children of the Sur. We hunkered in and drifted in and out of hybernation. We took time for ourselves.
Now it is March, and Spring arrives in two weeks. I am so ready, but I recognize that spring can bring more storms … more snow … more mudslides. And so, I try not to get my hopes up, yet. It is still early.
I don’t buy my tomato starts until May.
BTW, the view from Lucia of my mountain top taken about 5 pm this afternoon. I am the one in the clouds!