We'll pretend that he is Parson Brown

As I was driving home from San Mateo yesterday afternoon, along 280, I was struck again by how inappropriate the usual white Christmas iconography is for California. Once the winter rains start (which, admittedly, was very late this year) the brown hills turn green. Winter is a season of birth and renewal here. By Valentine's Day, the plum trees are already in bloom.

However, today I've decided that we can celebrate a white Christmas after all.