I woke up today with sunshine in my hair.
My dorm room is currently suffering a power outage. While this means no light in the room, it hasn’t stopped the air conditioner from working on full blast. This means I have to keep the windows open just so I don’t freeze while I sleep.
So today when I woke it was to a cold dark room, with a ray of sunshine dancing on my pillow. With a bed head and five minutes before I had to get up, naturally my thoughts went to…California.
Summer of ’10 was spent waking up to sun warmed blueberries and pancakes with warm maple syrup. Mornings in Sacramento invariably meant one of three things: a hike through the woods, trip to the farmers’ market, or a scavenger hunt in the local used books store. The last option was obviously my favourite. I remember spending entire afternoons sifting through hardcovers, thumbing through vintage Hardy, Dickens, and Austen.
It’s no surprise that I remember the sunshine; it was there making everything glow. The sun in California fell on the apples we went to pick, painting them gold. It skirted the tops of foamy waves in the Pacific, flirted with the jet skiers, lilted onto the dark brown sand and drove sunbathers crazy.
Twilights in Sacramento were noisy, if you were listening. A general hush fell over the city. People were packed in their homes, eating, resting, dreaming. Walking a little way into the woods you’d find a world apart. There were thousands of tiny conversations taking place infused with the tang of pine and honeycombs. There were the beetles that tapped, cicadas that hummed and a confused mosquito or two.
Sacramento was the perfect place to dream, to feel my dreams. It was a bit of my childhood packaged and stamped with a glitzy stamp.
Ah Cali. I miss you.