Transplants from the Midwest and the East Coast laugh at Southern Californians whenever we mention the idea of seasons. But I grew up in L.A., and I’ve lived the past three years in San Diego, and I swear to you there are seasons down here.

Granted, the differences are very subtle. I mean, if you randomly guessed that the weather in S.D. is sunny with a high around 72°F, you’d probably be right about 90% of the time, no matter what time of year. But 72°F in October feels different from 72°F in July.

To me, it’s the taste of the air. Autumn always makes me think of the smell of smoke. Unfortunately, this is usually because a national forest is burning, but it definitely colors my memories. When ever I catch that smoky taste in the air, I know that summer is pretty much over.

The other thing is that it still gets dark earlier and earlier as the calendar wends its way from solstice to solstice. In June, the sun set sometime around 8:30 p.m., and it felt like you had hours and hours of daylight. Now, the sun sets around 7:30pm, and that hour makes a difference. I can already feel that seasonal affective disorder setting in.

So because I’m working a night shift tonight (oh joy), I made my way to the local Coffee Bean & Tea Leaf for a latte with extra espresso. And I caught a whiff of that autumn scent. It lasted for about five minutes at the most, and then it was summer again, but it was enough. Time marches on.

Hopefully the caffeine does its job. I thought I had done well with sleeping today, considering that I managed to sleep for four hours after my swing shift yesterday, and another four hours sometime this afternoon. Unfortunately, I just realized that I’m still another eight hours down, since I’m not going to be sleeping tonight.

Must not think of sleep. Must not think of sleep.