In Pursuit of Autumn

I had hoped to be experiencing automne instead of autumn right now, but that was always a "best case scenario." So, while I wrangle through the joys of attaining a non-student long-term visa, I have taken some time to find Fall--wherever it may be.

It certainly isn't in Southern California, where autumn-like weather comes in January and everyone calls it "winter." So, I took a long weekend in the Bay Area with my parents (where I got the great book Runny Babbit, see post below) only to come home for two nights before taking off for Big Bear with my roommate. We stayed at her friend's cabin and enjoyed doing NOTHING for a couple days. We took the coyote-snacks (aka Jake and George), and they were properly subdued as they caught whiffs of the 1,000's of animals who would mistake them for hors d'oeuvres.

To my knowledge, I had never been to the San Bernadino mountains, and had somehow missed that they were actually, y'know, MOUNTAINS. Since many Southern Californians have slightly-twisted views on "autumn," "winter," "cold," and "rural" I made the false assumption that they would overestimate their hills and call them mountains (as many non-Alpine Europeans do--ask me to tell you my Hungarian "mountain" experience sometime). The San Bernandino Mountains (or whatever their proper name is) are, in fact, mountains (although nothing compared to my beloved Sierras). I stand corrected.

I loved spending two consecutive weekends in places where the leaves are changing, the winds are blowing, and layering is needed. Of course, after a few months of hiver, I'll be wishing for a San Clemente summer!