|"Summer - the real summer of warm, clear, silent days - comes to the Big Sur when the grass-covered hillsides are browned to the sea coast, when berries have ripened in the chaparral, when the forest leaves begin to wither and fall, when the yucca blossoms, when wild ducks arrive from the north, when coyote puppies are weaned and hunting on their own. It does not come overnight, as spring comes with the rains, but slowly as the sun burns away the fog and the sea winds die on the beaches. One feels the tempos lessen, the heat increase. One sees the fog disappear. And then one fine day - it may be August, it may be September - one says to himself, "This feels like summer", and looking about, he knows that it is. But not quite - there is always an overlap, a blending of seasons. After weeks of hot clear days, a misty curtain may move in from the sea, and bring the Big Sur style of summer back again if briefly."|
|Floyd Schmoe, from The Big Sur - Land of Rare Treasures|
on Pine Ridge
Northern Santa Lucia
From the Editors
Saddle Rock Sunset, by Boon Hughey
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