Why I'd Never Move to San Diego
You know the feeling. You're driving down the road, the snow is blowing, its dark, its cold. You can clearly see the snowflakes in your headlights and beneath the glow of the street lamps. You notice the wreaths tucked under each light as you pass each intersection. Each with a red bow bent in the wind. You drive down the hill and view the steady glow of the city off in the distance, it's hazy, and that song comes on the radio. The crunchy footsteps on the walk to the house. The blanketed quietness that only comes from a snowfall hushing the neighborhood. This is why I live in the Midwest. And why I could never live in San Diego.
You know the feeling. Or maybe you don't.