“The coldest winter I ever spent was a summer in San Francisco” is attributed to Mark Twain. However, “fact checkers” dispute this. They say it wasn’t Mark, but maybe Horace Walpole or several others. And, it wasn’t SF, but Paris or Duluth or someplace else. Whatever.

While the experts and bloggers dispute the veracity of things said or not said over 100 years ago, I do know this: this particular day in the early springtime at San Francisco was chilling to the bone! This traveling tortuga yearned for the warmth of the snowy north!!

The waves were crashing … the wind was howling … umbrellas were reversing … the few who ventured out scrambled to get back to their vehicles. Photos can’t capture how cold as it was. It was finger numbing cold!!!

Earlier this month this tortuga was at Christina Lake. Toward the evening. It was cold – but exactly the temperature you might expect. Not uncomfortable.

And after that, still up north, on Lake Roosevelt, much of the winter whiteness had gone. Sunrises were a promise of things to come. Not bone chilling cold!

Maybe it’s about expectations.

Later, after enjoying a SF menu, everything did seem warmer.

Perhaps this joyful little one summarizes what is available to us even in the chilliest of times:

… look for and find joy!