Sunshine and Oranges

     We left the land of sunshine and oranges (and yes, smog, but not while we were there) fairly early yesterday morning.  As we climbed the I-5 Grapevine, we were thankful that we were leaving Los Angeles, not entering.  Traffic going in the opposite direction was heavy, but not so for us.  When we reached the summit, the view was spectacular.
     As far as we could see north and south, the Central Valley was blanketed in a layer of fog.  Atop that was a layer of dark clouds (perhaps that was the smog?) and above it all, blue sky.  From our mountain vantage point it did not look ominous, but it was not long before we were in it and it was.  Although we knew that cars and RVs and 18-wheelers were all around us, we traveled in a murky white cocoon – at 70+ miles per hour so we wouldn’t be run over.
     Occasionally, we passed a flashing highway sign that said, “CAUTION HEAVY FOG.”  Duh!  And, once or twice, the fog thinned enough so that we could see fallow fields or orchards full of dead orange trees with their posted notifications “Congress Created Dustbowl.” The reference is to 2009 federal regulations that have turned off water to farmers further exacerbating recent drought conditions in the southern portion of the 450-mile-long Central Valley – the San Joaquin Valley.  The combination of fog and lifeless trees was eerie.
    We stopped at Santa Nella for Andersen’s famous split pea soup – appropriate, we thought, in the pea soup traveling conditions.  Continuing through the murk for another few hours, we finally came into the sunshine north of Stockton, just in time to enjoy the still-picturesque farms of the water-rich (comparatively) Sacramento Valley, as the northern part of the Central Valley is called.
     Today it’s up and over the Siskiyous and back to rainy Oysterville.  No lifeless trees there, except the ones knocked over by the storms of the past few years.  No orange trees, either.  Apple trees, though, and maybe next fall some apples if the deer people stay out of our yard.   And, in the meantime, perhaps some sunshine.  We can but hope.