All the Seasons of A Day

Posted on January 19, 2006 in Driving Weather

A pewter cast poured over the mountains, the streets, the red tile rooftops, and the verdant landscaping along Lake Forest Boulevard. The sun flew above clouds shaped like backslashes, trailing dots, and commas. The western horizon glowed yellow in an early twilight. The sun, as I stated, was still overhead still in its place relative to the planet, but moving to those who stood on the North American continent.

Despite the splashes of dark, the grays did not dull the reds of the roofs or even the greens of the ground cover and the trees. Each shadow found a place to poke itself, so as to best set off the vibrant color next to it. The trees were in disagreement as to what season this was. The sycamores decided upon an early spring; the flowering pears — half green and half scarlet — opted for the autumn. Eucalyptus trees chose an eternal summer. And the mountainside chapparal decided that the appropriate hue was a dim purple.

Cars with their drivers and a few pedestrians surrounded me. I felt, however, alone, that good aloneness which is sweeter than solitude. I was a mobile hermit, sweeping down the Boulevard and I was rested, calm, and happy.