It's the Most Wonderful Time of the Year

From the EDITOR'S Desk by Katherine Gould

It was windy when I woke up Thursday morning. When I opened the front door to get my paper, I paused in the doorway with the wind gusting into my face. And I smiled.

People say we don't have seasons in Southern California, but ours are just different: wind, rain, smog and fire. Wind is my favorite. It reminds me of days as a child walking to school and seeing fallen tree limbs and flying palm fronds. We'd laugh as trash cans rolled down the hills, and gawk at huge trees toppled onto houses. As a child, it was exciting and just a little bit scary - a time when nature changed the landscape and revealed that the seemingly permanent things in life can be turned into flying, flopping toys.

In high school, the winds were a cherished friend. During my freshman year, the winds toppled a tree onto the power lines running to La Cañada High School. Because nearly all the classrooms at LCHS have no natural lighting, no power meant no school. Wind gave us not one, but two days off that year. For the next three years, the wind brought with it the tantalizing hope of free days.

As an adult, I still love to feel the power and liveliness of the wind. It whips my hair and makes my eyes tear. It wreaks havoc on my sinuses. And I love every minute of it.

Here in Southern California, nature is not as oppressive about reminding us of its strength as it is in, say, Michigan or Florida. We don't have to dig out from snowstorms or board up against hurricanes each year. But once a year, nature reminds us not to take its power lightly. It blows down our Christmas decorations, and sends tree limbs and palm fronds flying.

And each year, I stand in the open, spread my arms wide, and feel the inspiring, exhilarating power of the wind.