It is June. I know it is June because tomorrow is my father’s birthday and my father’s birthday is always in June. Plus this weekend is Father’s Day, which I know is also in June, and my nephew’s birthday is next week, and my father-in-law’s birthday this weekend as well so yes, it most definitely is June.

Of course the instant I walk outside I have a tendency to get confused again because outside it doesn’t look like June or feel like June at all. In this part of California, June is supposed to be hot. Temperatures should be in the 90's or higher, and the only way it might feel cooler is if there is a breeze. June is supposed to remind us, yet again, that the worst of the summer weather is yet to come.

But instead the weather is beautiful. In the afternoons the temperatures hover in the mid-80’s while at night we open the windows upstairs and then huddle underneath heavy blankets and comforters in bed and pretend it is still winter because it gets so chilly. In the day I look at my window in the office and listen to the birds and watch the river flowing by and it isn’t even warm enough that I am tempted by the thought of diving into all that water because I know it is too cold to be refreshing.

I know that these perfectly lovely and unseasonable cool days cannot possibly last much longer, but oh, I can cross all my fingers and toes and wish with all my might that they will stay as long as they possibly can. It’s June and it’s beautiful outside and I am reminding myself over and over to remember how lovely it was this month because the summer heat will descend on us eventually and then all these lovely, windy days will be gone.