As I see it, Southern California has only two seasons....A "green" one and a "brown" one, and the "brown" one lasts considerably longer.
When the "green" season finally arrives, it is breathtaking. The hills outside my window are awash in cloaks of glorious green. I can't imagine Ireland looking much different than early spring in So Cal. And for a few very short weeks, everything is growing and stretching into the sunlight.
One of my daily rituals is to literally 'stop and smell the roses'. Each day there is a new unfolding of wonder along the walkway. I have planted rose trees outside my door and the perfume from the Angel Face roses in the early morning is intoxicating.
Soon enough the hillsides will be coated with flecks of yellow as the wild mustard begins to signal an end to the "green" and the "brown" season will start in earnest.
It's just the way it is, here on the edge of the Western World.
