This morning I googled: “record high temperatures february san francisco”.
The 368,000 results confirmed my suspicions….suspicions that ping ponged around Facebook this weekend with status updates that you could practically hear the nervous giggles coming through the screen, “Winter bike ride to the beach!” “I guess climate change isn’t so bad!” “Maybe the rest of the country is so cold because we’re taking all the warmth!”.
I also found this gem of a headline, “Sorry Rest of the Country, Record High Temperatures Expected Today in the Bay Area.”
I can think of some alternatives to that. Something like, “Sorry San Francisco, But This Weekend YOU Get to be the Poster Child for Global Warming.”
I almost feel like a curmudgeon, a big ol’ turd in the football punch bowl, being anything less than ecstatic and blissed out by the “amazing” weather. It is amazing. Amazingly bizarre. Amazingly disturbing. Amazingly out of season for the big plum tree in the garden next door to already have leaves and blooms. I definitely appreciated the break from the cold, getting to pretend like it was April in some other place and time. But when I checked the temperature reading in the car on Sunday, I almost got rear-ended from slamming on the brakes. The display said 81 degrees.
So for our version of fiddling while Rome burns, we got out of the city on Sunday for flea markets and Marin flowers. And internally I wondered what the frog does after it realizes the pot of water it is in is slowly heating up. Where to jump from here?
Enjoy another beautiful day, lovers.