This is the first time I’ve seen it rain in San Diego, and I’m not sure what to do. Should I take my cactus plants inside? Can they handle this type of weather? Should I take my indoor plants outside? Do they need a drink? Should I do a little dance? Maybe when Terry gets home he’ll skip the beach, stay in and watch Netflix with me. Maybe we’ll light candles when the power goes out, and tell each other spooky stories about the ghosts that live in our house.
Hummingbirds are crazy.
I’m just looking out the window and writing my thoughts.
And although it’s not the bright blue sky with whimsical clouds and sunshine that it usually is this time of day, I’m rather enjoying it.
I couldn’t sleep last night. I woke up around 3am to Terry telling me to put my homemade yogurt* in the refrigerator, and I couldn’t quiet my mind after the chore was done. I woke up late this morning to low energy and a cloudy sky. Knowing that there was laundry to do and a whole list of goals I wanted to accomplish today, I slowly made my way to the kitchen, poured myself a cup of coffee, fixed up a nice little bowl of yogurt, and indulged in Facebook at my leisure. Maybe my body knew it would rain today. My extrasensory abilities kicked in and had a chat with mother nature, telling me to be lazy and relax. Just a short while later and the tiny droplets began to fall. It’s funny how impactful weather can be. How much it can affect or manipulate your mood and mindset.
As eluded to in my last entry, one of my gripes about San Diego is how perfect it is all the time. The constant change in Chicago’s weather, although extreme, was for the most part welcome. Perfection can be wearing. And up until this point, I wondered if I’d ever see any variation in this paradise.
When I said San Diego wasn’t my first choice, it’s because Seattle was. Now that I think about it, it’s strange that I moved to a place that’s nearly the opposite of what I had in mind. Terry and I went for Halloween last year. It rained the entire time and we loved it. There’s something very cool about that city. So hip and underground. Like in the way that New Orleans feels mysterious, or that Austin feels weird. It has a very distinct vibe that I fell in love with.
I felt in-place there. Like that gum. It felt like home. And maybe the weather had something to do with it. It’s certainly a defining characteristic of the city. I suppose by nature, I’m an artsy, indoor girl who likes music and greenery. So yeah, Seattle is the place for me.
I can’t pinpoint San Diego. It doesn’t feel a certain way to me yet. But witnessing this exaggerated drizzle makes me feel a little more connected to it. Like the first time you notice an annoying habit of a new love. There’s something intriguing in their imperfection. One more truth seen. One step closer to becoming real.
I encourage San Diego to give me more truths, more imperfect days. I guess that’s a lot to ask of an entire city, but that much expanse affords great opportunity.
One little quirk I’ve noticed about these hummingbirds is how territorial they are.
* I’ll share this recipe in another entry. It’s a sensitive process, but if you just time it correctly you won’t have to wake up in the middle of the night. Promise.