Saturday, June 26, 2010

June is bustin' out all over

Well, it may be warm, sunny and pleasant in Maine (location of this scene from Roger & Hammerstein's Carousel, but not here by the bay. After a brief stint in the Chicago suburbs for a work conference two weeks ago, I was a bit forlorn to return to the Bay area. Summer isn't my favorite season, but I actually miss the lick of humidity against my skin that was so integral in the summer season back east. Landing in Chicago, I felt the weight of the summer air and the warmth of the sun beating down reminding me that it was June. It was summer!

The infamous Twain quote (though some question the validity of this attribution), "The coldest winter I ever spent was the summer in San Francisco" couldn't be more accurate. Though the most discouraging thing to me is that once you cross any bridge out of San Francisco, the skies are dry and the sun beams pound against the earth with no obstruction, ringing in temperature more akin to summer.

Friday morning I pulled on a sweater and some pants to start my day in the city. After finishing up a few meetings downtown and swinging south, I headed east to our office via the San Mateo bridge. Right as I crossed the bridge entrance, I put down my windows, slapped on my sun glasses as the sun appeared. I gazed north at the city nestled below a hovering disk of fog circling above. Just as summer breezes attempt to creep in to the streets of San Francisco, the dense summer fog gallops in (and it does gallop!) and deflects any indications of summer.

After work, I pushed further east- to Stockton with my cousin and adopted aunt and uncle for some wine tasting. Cognizant of the severe temperature gradient, I packed a sundress and light shrug for my evening activities. (Remember, I was wearing pants and a sweater for the day.) In Stockton, just 70 miles east of San Fran, I went the entire night without even reaching for my shrug once. Temperatures were in the 80s. When I got home Friday night (around 11:30 pm), the fog was so thick I had to use my wipers and I doubt temperatures were above 60 degrees.

I do love San Francisco, but I also really miss the change in seasons. I'll never miss the bitter winds and negative temperatures from Pennsylvania, but only my jeans and hoodies seem to be making it out of closet these days.

Here is some further reading about the topographic factors that keep summer away from San Francisco.

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