So this is called a marine layer, and all I know is that marine layers belong to June and December around these here parts, which happen to be Newport Beach, CA. Marine layers DO NOT belong here in September which is the best month of the year for the beach because it gets nice and hot, minus all the summer crowds. And it’s sunny. All day.
This marine layer has been hanging around since last May. It hovers, denying the existence of sun, in fact proclaiming it is stronger than sun, until 4:30 pm. At which point it dissipates for the evening. We are then blessed with what Southern California does best–we are blessed with absolutely beautiful weather. There’s this sunny late afternoon that gently slides into our velvet blue and rose evenings, lingering just long enough for the evening chat out on the deck, terrace, porch or whatever other outdoor space the Southern Californian most definitely has. The air is soft and sweet, not too hot, and definitely not too cold. There’s just enough moisture in the pure air to clear our heads–
SoCal evening light
There’s never been an argument at this time of day in Southern California. How could there be? Anger would not fly in the face of such goodness and peace.
This marine layer though, just can’t give it up in the daytime. And last night I actually saw it rolling back in before the moon came up. In fact I haven’t seen the moon in awhile…because of this marine layer.
I hate you, marine layer.
You could be, and indeed, used to be, a somewhat welcomed respite from the non-stop sun. You brought to the raucous beach scene a sense of dignity, if only for a little while. Like an hour or two in the morning, in June. Remember June? When did you get greedy? When did you decide to take over the coast of Southern California? When did you decide to last all day, then five months? Aren’t you tired? Don’t you have anywhere else to go? Aren’t you, for god sake, bored?!
We’re bored with you.
And just so you know, we ALL know that the sun is only a mile inland. All it takes is a quick bike ride inland and we are out in the sun under blue skies. And you are instantly a old news, nothing but a bad dream, beaten up, used up, and a redundant memory.
You used to be somebody. Don’t you care?