It’s to be expected, I suppose, that in a city known as a place of great understanding and openness, that few things are clearly defined. From political views to sexual preference, everything in San Francisco seems to be on a wide-ranging scale of shades.
So it’s funny to me that when it comes to the weather, that things here are so terribly abrupt. Many may disagree and say that San Francisco is mostly the same year round with temperatures ranging around the 60s no matter the season.
But I disagree.
There are no true seasonal shifts as you find in places like New England (or anywhere else in the Northeastern United States for that matter). In those places, each season winds down and then shape-shifts into the next usually marked by glorious color and slowly morphing temperatures.
Here in San Francisco though the changes are abrupt with seasons coming upon you like a Mack truck moving at 80 miles an hour crashing from a bank of Tully fog and coming upon you with the grill in stark relief.
This came to mind as I got out of my car this afternoon having just returned from a meeting downtown. When I left the house it was drizzly gray with sunshine attempting to peek from the storm clouds overhead. Just a couple of hours later the air has shifted.
The light is sharp. Even though the sky above echoes with the tired pale blue of winter, and the sun lays at a deep, low angle in the sky, the glow from above cuts a sharp figure around every building and every tree. In spite of the chill a slight scent of sea wafts by, reminding me of those winter days long ago when my family would head for our beach house in New Jersey. We’d wander on the beach and boardwalk – everything shuttered and desolate with everyone but a few locals gone to winter inland.
If you’re lucky enough to be in the Bay Area, specifically in San Francisco, make sure and get outside today. Close your eyes. Take a deep breath. And make sure to revel in this glorious weather.
The rains will come soon enough.