I thought maybe it was good, like I was being prepared for something slightly closer to the climate of Montana. I was, like, practicing being cold. For a minute.
Then today, it was 85 degrees. And I came to my senses. I never, ever, ever get tired of being warm. You know what? The weather here is unmistakably awesome and that's why it costs a small fortune for a modest house where you can shake hands with your neighbors out the upstairs windows and enjoy your postage stamp of concrete that's deceptively called a backyard.
But. You can go to the beach in March.
You can wear an impractical scarf.
You can dig your toes into the cool sand and let the damp, salty air give your hair that excellent, slightly sticky feel.
You can roll your pants up as high as they go and skitter away when the tide chases you.
You can dream of endless summers and sunshine that feels like a hug you've been needing.
Even though you know the California days are numbered.
Even though you know one day this misty, salty wonderland may feel as fuzzy as a dream.
And even though you know that one day, you'll make new traditions, have new favorite spots, wear cozy scarves.
One day, the dreams themselves may even change. But for now, I'm soaking up this sun. I'm appreciating it and enjoying it with my people maybe more than ever before.
I'm extra grateful for today, trusting God for tomorrow, and even though I'm exhausted from the moving process and starved for alone time, that's enough for me right now.