The Cocoon
I spoke to Kim today as the Atmospheric Rivers buffeting Central and Southern California raged on. She was hunkering down during the storm. We have been very fortunate in San Diego relative to other areas of California for many reasons. To begin with, the impact of the long term draught has not been as severe in our area than it has been in the more northern parts of the state. We have not had the severe water restrictions over the last several years that have plagued the other parts of the state. This has also manifested itself in far fewer wildfires in our area compared to the seemingly constant progression of fires in other areas. San Diego had its share of bad wildfires, most specifically the Cedar Fire in 2003 that did things like jump the Rt.15 Freeway and devastate 273,000 acres of the county thanks to the help it got from the dry Santa Ana winds coming in from the eastern desert. In 2021 I watched a wildfire take hold of a hillside on the far side of the 15 from our hilltop. It engaged about six or seven acres on the eastern-facing slope and was probably started by something like a discarded cigarette from a passing motorist. I watched as CalFire brought in a spotter plane, several phoscheck-dropping tanker planes and several helicopters that carried water bags. If took a few hours, but CalFire managed to successfully contain the fire before it got out of control. At the time, I calculated that this little fire received about 15% of the fire-fighting air force resources of CalFire, which was interesting because on that day this little fire didn’t even make the CalFire active hotspot map, which is limited to the top 50 fires in the state at any time. The CalFire team looked on top of their game and I am very glad they were, but I could also see that controlling more remote and larger fires must be a serious challenge.
In the same way that we in San Diego have suffered far less in terms of draught and wildfires in the past few years, we have also been impacted less by this years flurry of atmospheric rivers which are coming in over the Pacific Ocean at California. Our first reaction in this state is always to applaud the coming of precipitation in most forms. We like good winter snowpack to help fill the reservoirs in the spring. And we like good healthy rain storms to help feed the earth and the gardens to support the lush succulents that thrive in this area. The area straddles the sub-tropical coastal area and the drier high chaparral that better characterizes our particular hilltop. Where things like floods and mudslides are something you hear plenty about in California, I can’t say that I have heard much about those concerns in the area where we live or in San Diego County altogether. That is a particularly good thing for people high up on the hillside like we are, less for fear of floods and more for fear of erosion and mudslides. We are not as precarious as some of the canyon-clinging homes in Los Angeles County and while I am not a geologist, I suspect that our hillsides are generally more stable down here due to their drier disposition.
There are many things to think about when choosing a place to live. This very Maslowian need for shelter is such that we focus on seismic stability, wildfire risk, mudslide risk, draught risk and flood risk. And here is the thing, I doubt I focused enough on any of those when I bought this property other than to know that I was was able to secure property insurance, so I assumed I was within the band of normalcy. That has changed somewhat of late as insurance has become increasingly hard to secure, mostly due to wildfire risk. I was pleasantly surprised when I bought the house in 2012 when I was sent the state-mandated report on all of those risks. This report was impressive in its details and in the confidence it provided a new buyer such as myself. We are deemed to not be in a seismically active area with big risk of earthquakes, obviously a general concern in a state dominated by the San Andreas Fault and many stories of the state floating off into the Ocean after a major event. We got low mudslide risk marks, which is what gives me geological confidence as mentioned. Being on a hill, it would be hard to imagine that flood risk would have ever been a major risk. But wildfire, with the memories of the impactful Cedar Fire, which was then ten years in the rear view mirror, was a concern that we were told to deal with by brush-cutting 200 feet all around the house (which we diligently did). Otherwise, we felt pretty safe on our hilltop and that has proven to be a valid comfort over the past three years.
Last week, during one of the particularly bad rain days, Kim and I spent an afternoon lounging on our King Size bed, commenting to one another how soothing it was on a day like that to be able to relax and cozy up in the dry and warm comfort of our hilltop home. It was a palpably good feeling. I flew out of San Diego on Sunday during a break in the atmospheric river action and from what Kim tells me, she is back staying cozy and warm in the bosom of our bedroom, she an Betty napping away the afternoon. If anyone deserves to relax after the holiday season, Kim does, since she does so much to make everyone’s holidays so very special through all her extreme efforts. But that being said, like anything, too much of a good thing is always a concern. Our first tranche of atmospheric rivers came across the ocean a few weeks ago and we hunkered down for the duration. We smiled and talked about the falling draught risk numbers. Now we are in the midst of the next tranche of atmospheric rivers, and while not yet overly concerned about any negative effects, we are starting to wonder when this is planning on coming to an end. I have moved from pleasure seeing the garden prosper to concern about over-saturation of the soil. If we have another bout of atmospheric rivers, I cannot be sure I might not start getting worried about where the hillside will find itself.
I am enjoying my stay in NYC this week. It feel less hectic and crowded than it did in either early December or late October. And the Cornell Club is living up to its expectation of being a haven in midtown for me. In fact, I might go so far as to say that that it is a cocoon of sorts, not unlike how the bedroom feels to Kim on a rainy day. My room has a very soft and comfortable King Size bed with fine crisp white linens that get changed or at least made up every day by unseen chambermaids. My clothes are in the drawers of the bureau, my suit is hanging in the closet, my Dopp Kit is on the large granite counter in the bathroom. Everything about the room makes it a sanctuary at the end of a long day of deposition preparation (I have had two intense days of it so far and have one last one today) as I head into my planned seven-hour deposition on Thursday. The week then winds down with an on-call day on Friday when I will be required to do no more than make myself available should I be needed to answer any questions by the lawyers conducting the questioning of my opposing expert witness (who, strangely enough, also happens to be one of the defendants in the case…very unusual).
Sometimes you want to be out there in the wilds of the world to embrace the adventure that it throws at you. At other times, like when the winter storms rage or when the traffic of midtown assaults, it is nice to have a cocoon in which to crawl and find comfort and respite as the world Rae’s on around you.