After checking the wunderground forecast for the week I’ve realized I just need to let go of my romantic autumnal notions.
Every fall here in the *beautiful* OC, we have these dreadful “Santa Ana” winds which are hot, dry, fiercely fast dust kickers and fire spreaders. Named for the Santa Ana River basin through which they blow, they apparently start out in the mountains, gaining velocity and temperature as they are forced down the slopes and through the valleys. They are my very least favorite type of weather. Crunchy dry carpet, chapped lips, wandering ashes, brown skies, hot hot hot when all you want to do it wear sweaters and socks for crying out loud. 88 degrees in October, Oy vey.
BUT, hope springs eternal. By the end of the month mornings should be foggy, nights should be chilly and sandals traded in for their closed-toed cousins. Until then I’ll try to find something to enjoy in this, even if it is just watching (as Basil pointed out) the static sparks created by my pajamas and sheets as I slip into bed…they’re pretty cool.