Coming from a place with basically three seasons, (perfect, slightly colder than perfect, and a little too warm), I never really appreciated what they had to offer. For me, having sunshine and warmth all year round was all the mattered. When I first moved here I was shocked that people actually said, “don’t you get sick of having perfect weather all the time?!?” I never believed that bizarre thought could pass through someone’s mind. I used to roll my eyes at the end of summer when my mom would ask when is it going to be fall because she was sick of all this heat and wanted a chance to wear her “fall” clothes.
I have to admit something. I love the seasons. Now, I am not saying I still don’t despise the fact the Paris has the ability to lose the sun completely for months at a time. But. I am saying I have grown to adore the concept of seasons changing. To those of you who did not grow up in southern California, I am sure I sound border line pathetic that seasons are a new concept to me, but hey, Ill take it because guess what? They really are.
When I went back to the states after craving the sun and heat, I found myself wondering why it was appropriate to be sweating in a sun dress in October. That is just not right. I wanted brown and orange leaves falling from the trees lining my street and to see people wearing boots and scarves. Don’t get me wrong, I will always boost and brag about San Diego’s impeccable weather, but I have to say I was more than happy to be welcomed home to brisk weather, changing trees, and of course, the best of Paris’ fall fashion.