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Seasons

People speak of LA not having seasons, but it does. It’s just subtler. The pups and I ran up to the top of the trail on Lake this morning, and Pasadena is ablaze in changing leaves. Not that much different than Kentucky looked a few weeks ago. Most of the color comes from the native sugar maple (I think it’s native, there’s a lot of it in the mountains). The live oak will stay green all the winter. If barrenness speaks winter, we don’t get that here.

You can drive up to the Sierra if you want some truly stunning foliage, but that’s true of most any other major city. If you live in NYC, you have to drive up to the Gunks or Dacks to see it.

The days are sunny, warm, but with that touch of crispness, and nights are cool. There was snow on the mountains before Thanksgiving, right above the house, and there will be again. In a month or two, I’ll be able to drive 45 minutes and going skiing before work.

Subtle seasons, and I don’t have to shovel snow. Works for me.

And I confess, I still get spring fever here almost every day. Fall fever, I guess, today.