It is Winter in San Francisco. It gets dark at 5:00. The leaves are falling or have fallen. It is chilly. I wear gloves when riding Big Red. At night I can hear the fog horns on the Golden Gate Bridge going,”Wooooooooooo.” It rains sometimes and can be misty BUT there are flowers. Jack Frost does not reach into beautiful flowers and tear out their hearts with his icy fingers. It is a kind sort of Winter, or in Californian a kinda, sorta Winter. Let’s look at some flowers.
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