Calla lillies, about three months ahead of schedule this year! The weather has been unusually warm and dry, as all long time residents agree. By now, like Lewis and Clark on their first foray to the West, we'd be stuck in place, anticipating a clearing period to resume activities like walks on the beach, in the forests, by the rivers and lakes all abundant around here.
There is a place where Lewis and Clark's group landed on the Columbia which they named Foulweather just because the weather, cold, wet, windy and mostly miserable, trapped them for months before the expedition could resume their task of mapping the West.
We arrived to live here eleven years ago, at the beginning of February. That year, for three weeks or so, we marveled at our good fortune, walking the coast trail, sitting on our south facing deck with a glass of wine celebrating our good fortune and tanning away as though we still lived in Southern California, soaking up the sun, the fresh air, the gentle breezes for days on end.
A week later, we had to hustle quickly one early evening when the weather changed and our furniture was flying around and hitting windows and doors in a matter of seconds.
That night, with winds in the sixty and eighty miles an hour, rain from all angles, branches of trees hitting the roof, a driveway washing off with alacrity, we thought for sure, this was going to be our last day on earth.
Those who have lived here for a while will tell you: don't get used to comfort. This area can be treacherous in winter months. This year, Treacherous Weather seems to have forgotten Cape Blanco for now.
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