How you can tell it’s fall in L.A., according to a guy from Vermont: If it feels like you’re wearing a coat that was made by God.
I’ve been seeing more rain here in Los Angeles this year — and more thunderstorms. Our days are getting longer, too, which has something to do with the fact that we spent more money on an indoor pool this year than we did on all the toys for kids.
The National Weather Service just declared it “a little too close to winter to call it fall” for the fifth year in a row.
Meanwhile, I’ve been working less and eating more. The thing I most want to do is read, but I can’t. Not because I’m not up to tackling reading a book, but because my brain isn’t up for it. Whenever I do get to a new book, I have to read it over and over again for fun, just to make sure I don’t miss anything.
I never really noticed these things when I lived in New Mexico, where the weather was always gorgeous. But now it’s different. Los Angeles is a desert, and a very dry one. The first time I saw a water tower, or a new house, or a new car, my heart lifted. I always thought that was a sign from God, and I never took it for granted. But ever since I was old enough to buy a bottle of wine, I’ve seen people enjoying the fall colors, and I’ve seen a lot of people who are excited about turning 50, and I’ve been disappointed that I’m not yet.
The thing is, I like the fall so much that I can’t imagine not being in love with it, despite my own complaints about it. I don’t want to hate the fall, because it does great things for me every year, and I want to love it all the time, even when it feels like a miserable, miserable place.
This is the first time that I’ve ever actually used the term
