Since moving to California, I've noticed that Fall is a formality largely reserved and revered for the mere fact that we get to set the clocks back (don't get me wrong, I revere the clock thing as well). In the Northwest, though, it was more of a process, and it was appreciated.
Where is this bitterness coming from? I'll tell you.
When Krista and I moved to Dana Point I took notice of all the deciduous trees, and I hoped (oops) that I might get to see some Fall colors. As it turns out, the trees here, much like everything else, just skip straight to the outcome and have no appreciation for the process. So, leaves don't really change color as much as they just pick a night and in the darkness die and fall off the trees. It's depressing.
Now I will go get a haircut.
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2 comments:
so, depression leads to getting a haircut?
I hope that you can get up to some mountains or something on a weekend, and see some beauty there. Peace.
Crotty- Guess I've been out of the loop or something . . . just now found this list of blogs. I've been meaning to email you (and maybe I did already, not sure if I'm just imagining it) cus' I saw something amazing on TV the other night: On the show "MythBusters" (which you've probably heard of) on the Discovery channel, one of the assistants (young guy with black hair) has worn a stuntman hat TWICE!! Maybe you already know this, if so, just disregard and I'll simply say "hi".
knox
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