seasonal

Autumn has always been my favorite season. My sixteen years on the east coast provided a sixteen year love affair that began after Labor Day. 

Here in Los Angeles, the changes are subtle because the leaves that do change don't do so until late November, and so I notice the quality of light. The gloaming floats colors that are burnt yellow and oranges that are tinged hot pink. The fog horns sound and along the horizon, slate grays bruised purple, cloaking the bay, obscuring the shore.

I've always associated my birthday with Autumn, although technically it's late summer and then school begins, and Rosh Hashanah and Yom Kippur, and I find myself feeling like a new year has begun; much more than New Years ever feels like a new beginning.