Like fire and rain.

Like fire and snow.

Yes. We had a little snow. Mostly it didn’t stick to the ground. I suspect the ground is still too warm. Four days ago, the temperature was in the low 80s. It’s 33 degrees as I write. I tried photographing snow as it fell. That looked okay, but not great. I did make this picture which seems to sum it up.

Of course, in the south a little snow goes a long way. Schools were closed. Our typically bad drivers got worse. People in grocery stores were stocking up for the apocalypse. The usual stuff.

Meanwhile, Southern California burned. You’ve read the news. Watched it on television. I don’t need to rehash that. There was great piece in The New York Times about the firefighters and what they live through. I’d share it here, but they use a pay wall.

I haven’t said much, because I don’t know what to say. My heart hurts. It really hurts. I make a big deal of living in Louisiana, but I’m not from here. I make a littler deal about being born in Brooklyn. That’s fine. But, I grew up in Southern California. First, in the now hipster enclave of Silverlake in Los Angeles, and for most of my young life in Long Beach, where my parents could afford to buy a home using my Dad’s World War II GI Bill. I went to high school there. When I finally got to college, I studied at San Jose State University. Even though my first newspaper job came in Virginia, I freelanced in the Bay Area for a couple of years, mostly focused on music. That probably explains some things today.

Both my Californias burned this year.

I have no idea what to say. Except to say that I hold the state dear. I hold the people with whom I grew up with, and studied with, dear.

Once, earlier this year, we were talking about where we could move if the choice was unlimited. By the way, it mostly is. I said home. I didn’t mean Brooklyn. That Brooklyn has changed so much that I don’t know it when I am there. I meant Long Beach. To be more specific somewhere in Belmont Shores.

There you have it. Home.

The picture. Oh, you already know what I did. I saw it. I photographed it after trying and failing to make a worthy snow falling picture. I enhanced it a little in post production and you are looking at the result.

I will get back to reworking older pictures tomorrow. Or, maybe I’ll actually make my presence known on the street. It’s Sunday. There is a second line. It’ll be downtown. Near hipster central.

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4 Replies to “Snow Day”

  1. Thank you. My grown daughter, who lives near San Diego, has moved her horses twice. Her husband, who is ICE (border patrol) is also busy helping with firefighting. Meanwhile, my friends in Simi Valley and up towards Santa Barbara are hanging on. The rains aren’t coming this year, I fear.

    Like

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