October Almanac
A Transition of Seasons
By Clinton S. Powell, Naturalist

October is a transition between summer and autumn; this is Southern California, not Nebraska.

Pacific storms will roll in, perhaps a dash of rain. Or we could experience a storm like '04 that dumped about 11 inches in a week, headed east to the Great Basin and rolled back in with strong high pressure and crinkling heat.

We bring in firewood, close the windows, put on flannel sheets, listen to the rain, then step out into the bright morning sunlight. We watch the autumn colors ripen. Leaves drop, sailing down as slowly as warm butterflies.

The average high temperature for Julian is 69 degrees, the average low is 39 degrees. The record high is 93 degrees, the record low is 15 degrees.

If anyone can remember those temperatures, raise your hand and bow to the earth; you've experienced the wide latitude of October.

For those who haven't experienced these temperatures, well, be prepared. The average high temperatures of upper 80s will continue until about the middle of the month, then rise and fall like pear leaves in the wind; up and down, up and down.

Perhaps November will truly feel like autumn. We will see. Record low temperatures begin the second week and continue to hold tight on into November.

Will we see autumn colors for a week, maybe more, or will the east wind rip, tear and roar on toward the coast, and disappoint us one again?

The most dependable native tree with fair autumn color is the California black oak, with the introduced pear and pistachia, liquidambar the solid basics.

I believe most of us know why these mentioned trees turn into velvet brown, dappled yellow and a stray strand of red ribbons on the pistachia. The study of changing colors is very common. However, we mar the beauty of the leaves by always wondering why and how this is done. We must have an answer for everything, like counting the seven colors of the rainbow.

Without question, the definite answer to autumn colors, or the rainbow comes best from Mark Twain: "We have not the reverent feeling for the rainbow that a savage has because we know how it is made. We have lost as much as gained by prying into that matter."

I cannot tell you why our native conifers remain evergreen; they just do. The

area called Whispering Pines just east of town I consider one of the most appropriately named communities.

Yes, I've dug into my Latin dictionary and found susurrus, as "whispering, murmuring, muttering or humming." And if that's not enough, call this community Pinus susurrus; perhaps someone will be pleased, confused or soured.

Rainfall average for Julian is 1.64 inches. Sparse, mighty sparse; I do wonder when last year's 11 inches of rain will be included into this average. As an example, Lake Cuyamaca measured 15.35 inches of rain 2003, but when the data from 1887 is included; its average rainfall is only 1.64 inches. That long duration of recorded rainfall I believe answers the question regarding Julian's rainfall. Prepare for everything. It may only rain crow calls all month; we shall see.

Regarding weather, I will admit being sobered by a visit to the National Weather Service in Rancho Bernardo. This huge room looked like the war room in Dr. Strangelove; people scanning visual monitors, updating data constantly, alarms going off and the poor public relations man was truly under pressure.

High pressure or low, I could not determine. Some folks like their pressure high, some like it low.

October will be what it will be: a small mountain community packed with visitors at the county fair each weekend. That is a constant factor and we living here realize this.

If you want to feel packed in an assortment of people, fragrant apple pies and autumn color, this is the place to be on any weekend.

I often wonder about that. Who would ever imagine that an old gold town would became a tourist town with the introduction of apples, peaches, nectarines, pears, cherries and a wonderful community to stand by and offer the harvest each year.

Which came first? The autumn color or the gold; the delicious fruit and cider or the visitors. I believe it's the former, don't you?