Proclamatory!

I've decided to make the unofficial, non-meteorological declaration that winter in San Francisco is officially (get it?) over! Plausibly, a valid argument could have been made any of the past couple weeks, but in my estimation there was a pinch too much rain and too many sudden, temperamental dips in the weather, who was behaving kind of like a spoilt child. Now, on the other hand, after a glorious and sunshiny day as today, I doubt there's much supportable opposition. If there's one thing that NorCal (SF in particular) has over SoCal (and there are many) it's the blooming season. Such gorgeous colors everywhere! Actual verdure! Actual flora! Spring has arrived, folks. That's as much a mindset as it is a literal moment in time. 

The sun was a masterful force; the clouds were either paper-thin or pillow-fluffy and scattered like designs on a soft powder-blue wallpaper; the streets were thronged with assortments of people, some whose heads were buried in maps, others who knew their destinations all along; the air strewn with traces of delicious outdoor food being cooked away by vendors; and there was a noticeable lilted quality to the entire mood of the day. Factor in that it was the Chinese New Year Parade and the day was more or less an inflating balloon of anticipation until the big event, which is regarded as one of the top 10 parades in the world. You could sense it, though: there was a palpable buoyancy out there today, as if all at once everyone had concomitantly come to the agreement that, "Yes, right now, this instant, is spring. We are a people in need of spring. Let's get sprung and enjoy ourselves." Rooftops were packed, music carried from all over, and when it all ended, when the sun sunk below our horizons (aren't they cruel?), a great big moon rose up in the crystalline eastern sky, as though in earnest approval. Even now, early Sunday morning, firecrackers are still popping off. 

I could never--and especially cannot now, after living in the West--fathom how people can voluntarily submit themselves to winters on the East. If I'm going to endure brutally chilled winters and onslaughts of snowstorms, I'm going to be living in Stockholm or somewhere similarly magical and with European quality of life, like healthcare. The only way it's worth putting up with self-abuse like that is because you're living somewhere not only desirable, but a place that strokes you back apologetically during these harsh winters, not some hyperbolic shell of a city that stares back at you with two black eyes and wired jaw. Prague, I'll take snow in Prague. Or Vilnius or Berlin or Vienna. Snow in America is a terrible punishment for a crime as benign as birth.

Many thoughts go out to Okinawa and Santiago in these tough, quake-ravaged times. If you can afford to donate a bit, please do. This is a planet that does not care about us, so we must take notice and care about each other.