The year is 2022 and we’re having an odd winter in Mendocino California. I say this based on my sixteen winters here and from talking to folks who have been wintering here for much longer than I.
We had lots of much-needed rain in October and November, a little rain in December, none in January, and none so far in February, with no rain in sight, which means we could be in for an extremely dry spring and summer, with many wells running dry and high fire danger.
I have suggested to several people, including a member of the local water board, that a good deep reservoir of a few acres on the hill where the high school sits would be full now from the early rains and would be a boon via gravity to the town in summer, but my idea is apparently not financially feasible.
Aside from insufficient rain, we have had no days of freezing temperatures a mile from the coast where we live, and very few days in the 30s. Still it has been continuously cold, so if one is in the sun at noon, one is warm, but in the adjacent shade, one is cold. This lack of deep cold is causing many plants and insects to behave in ways we don’t usually see around here including blackberry bushes trying to blossom in January and a mosquito visiting my nose in February.
Our statue of Ganesh was carved by an artist in Bali from white stone and is bone white in midsummer when the sun’s rays have cleansed him. By midwinter he has been painted artfully by the elements. Ganesh is called the Remover of Obstacles and I pray to him frequently in this regard.
In summer this same bird might sit on this same branch and we would not see her. But in winter, the leaves gone, she is beautifully revealed.
Every day we walk by these two dogs, and every day the black dog barks at us until one of us says, “Hello. It’s okay.” However, when I aimed my little camera to capture an image of the canines in their winter vests, the black dog began to bark menacingly and his usually blasé companion joined him in rushing to confront the nosy photographer who was glad for the intervening fence.
This is our view on our walk down Little Lake Road on a February morning, the local humans enjoying the sunshine while simultaneously praying for rain. The water delivery trucks have begun coming and going again on Little Lake Road, which does not bode well for the months ahead in terms of water.
When my brain quiets down and I’m not stuck somewhere in the past or worrying abut the future, we’re having a lovely winter.
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