Glendale Foliage Season

Very few things make me nostalgic for New England as much as images of the reds, oranges, and yellows of foliage season.  The visuals conjure memories of other senses: the slight nip in the air, the crunch of fallen dead leaves, the smell of cloves and pumpkin pie.  In the mid-1980's, I worked a job as an assistant cameraman that found me and a few other crew members flying in a helicopter over pretty much the entire length of Vermont at the height of fall color.  The whole state was a carpet of crimson, tangerine and flaming gold.  Not only was it beautiful, but also gave a sense of perspective about the relatively rural state: it sure looked like nobody lived there.

Ellen and I have talked about going back east for foliage season every year for years now, but somehow it never happens.  Someday, though, it will.

We've had cold weather here in LA for a few weeks now (including, as could be predicted, the week we had no gas and ergo no heat).  The nights have been in the 40's and maybe even dipped down into the 30's.  I know, I can hear you northeasterners snark, "that's t-shirt weather!"  Shaddap.

As evidenced by the photo above, it was cold enough for long enough for some of LA's deciduous trees to actually turn.  As far as I can remember, this is the first time this has happened in my twenty years here.  Or at least, the most colorful.  I point out the trees to Ellen, and she acknowledges that they are beautiful.  Now imagine, I tell her, trees like that as far as the eye can see...