And After Becoming Acclimated These People Find It Hard To
Bear The Changes From Hot To Cold In The Normal Regions Of The Earth.
Perhaps Once In Two Or Three Years There Comes A Day When There Is No
Fog, No Wind, And A High Temperature In The Coast District.
Then follows
hot weather, perhaps up in the eighties, and Californians grumble,
swelter and rustle for summer clothes.
These rare hot days are the only
times when one sees women in light dresses on the streets of San
Francisco.
Along in early May the rains cease. At that time everything is green and
bright, and the great golden poppies, as large as the saucer of an
after-dinner coffee cup, are blossoming everywhere. Tamalpais is green
to its top; everything is washed and bright. By late May a yellow tinge
is creeping over the hills. This is followed by a golden June and a
brown July and August. The hills are burned and dry. The fog comes in
heavily, too; and normally this is the most disagreeable season of the
year. September brings a day or two of gentle rain; and then a change,
as sweet and mysterious as the breaking of spring in the East, passes
over the hills. The green grows through the brown and the flowers begin
to come out.
As a matter of fact, the unpleasantness of summer is modified by the
certainty that one can go anywhere without fear of rain. And in all the
coast mountains, especially the seaward slopes, the dews and the shelter
of the giant underbrush hold the water, so that these areas are green
and pleasant all summer.
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