December in Los Angeles reminds me so much of late September in Maine. It's our autumn. The air is crisp and, well, not to sound foolish, but you can taste it. And not in a bad, LA smog kind of way. A light, clean, clear autumn air. All day long there's a slight chill to the air, a brisk current.

Today is one of those days.

I left for work right around nine in the morning. I had just finished my Quaker Instant Oatmeal, "baked apple" flavor. The sky was as blue as I've ever seen in in this city. The sunlight was bright, but not 100 degrees summer in Burbank bright. Autumn bright. And talk about clear. The valley walls, sometimes completely obscured by summer smog, were crystal sharp.

Sure, the trees in LA don't really stick to the most rigid definition of foliage. It seems that one day they're green and alive, and the next day they're dried and brown and falling to the ground. It's sort of sad, really. But then I don't think that anything in the world can compare to a New England forest of oranges, gold, reds as far as the eye can see. It's as if the trees in LA know they can't compete, so they forfeit completely. A wise choice.

The San Fernando Valley is also not known for its air currents. That's part of the reason it gets so blasted hot here in the summer, the air just isn't circulating. But today, on this beautiful fall day, the air plays with the downed browned leaves, swirling them on the pavement. (That's pretty much everywhere here, since most of the valley is paved). Even the sound of dried leaves makes me think of fall.

It's really as if the whole city of Burbank has undergone some, dare I say, "movie magic", to be transformed into a stereotypical Vermont Sunday. I want to go out and pick a pumpkin. Get apples to make a pie. Drive to North Conway to see the foliage. Get out and live and enjoy life.

Instead I get into my car and drive to work, where for the first time I'm one of the lucky fifth cars to get my trunk searched. Then into my cubicle, where the temperature is a stern 75 degrees, rain or shine, July or December.

But I still have windows in my building, I can still see the blue sky and the clear air and the bright autumn sun.

- Josh Edwards