You’ve probably sensed it for some time, the blurring of seasons in Laguna Beach.
Cool summers. Warm winters. Random hailstorms. Rare equatorial fish.
The vagaries of seasons have been unmistakable, losing their contrast. Brilliant spring days are indistinguishable from summer. Winter is largely relative. Instead of four distinct seasons, we are down to one:
Sumter.
A conflated summer and winter, fused like an odd oceanic, atmospheric twin god.
If you doubt the characterization, just walk around town on any given weekend – spring, summer, fall, it doesn’t matter. Every park will be busy, the air soaked with Kingsford charcoal lighter fluid and 80% ground beef.
People come because of Sumter, the enviable, temperate new normal. There is a predictability to Laguna’s climate that is irresistible.
In many ways, the old “spring” time is best because it means slightly fewer people and marginally lower parking prices.
If there are meandering, languid clouds, it just means their shadows make the water shift from clear, saturated blue to neutral green. In either light, the kelp sways just as rhythmically.
The dolphins arrive, of course, as if on cue – accenting the picture like a Wyland painting.
Sumter.
Redemptive, nourishing, unplugged.
This is the reason tourists come – to release their endorphins, reduce stress, and make life more worthwhile.
For residents, it never hurts to be reminded: It’s a year-long opportunity.
Sumter.
