Last week I was in California for my son’s wedding. The weather was beautiful. Flawless, actually. We were able to eat outside on the deck at the hotel, looking at boats and ducks and hearing the sea lions. The sun was shining on my back. I kept thinking, “I could live here”. But could I?
I am a New Englander at heart. As I get older, I long for the warmth of the southern states. But to not see snow in the winter? To not feel the frost in the air every Halloween? And what about the ocean? Sure, California has the Pacific, but it’s not the same. And in Georgia and Florida, there is certainly ocean, even Atlantic Ocean. But it’s just not my ocean.
To those who have never been here, I have to say, you must visit New England. Preferably not in February or March, but August? September? October? Incredible. The brisk fall air is intoxicating. And the summers are fun, too. Cape Cod in the summertime is paradise. And Martha’s Vineyard and Nantucket are just a day trip away.
We are not far from the Berkshires, and the White Mountains. In three hours, I can be sitting by a mountain stream near Mount Washington, or sunning on the beach in Truro.
I can visit Newport, Rhode Island and tour the mansions from an era long past. We have historical sites in abundance, including the birthplaces of numerous presidents and the landing place of the Pilgrims. Norman Rockwell’s small town of Stockbridge is a few hours to the west.
In the wintertime, there is skiing and snowmobiling, for those who are so inclined. I can stand atop Mount Washington, home of the strongest wind ever recorded – 231 mph. In winter it is impassable, but in summer, it is delightful.
We also have the very best seafood in the world. Fresh Cod off the boats in Falmouth or New Bedford is unequalled by any warm water fish. We have jumbo shrimp and fried clams. Nothing better, I promise.
So I guess a New Englander I shall remain. It would be nice, however, to spend the coldest, grayest months in Southern California.