Red Flag

Bobby Nash: People say that there are no seasons in Los Angeles. Imagining all of our days as perfectly sunny and 72 degrees. That's actually San Diego. Angelenos know how rainy winter gives way to a too-short spring, that summer starts with gloomy skies and ends with unrelenting heat. And what happens when the Santa Anas start to blow. Dry winds that tear through the mountains and canyons picking up speed and strength as they descend on the city. Downing power lines, uprooting trees and unsettling psyches. Blamed for everything from migraines to a rise in the divorce rate... The Santa Anas wear us down. Creeping into our dreams and setting our teeth on edge. Every gust adding to the eerie, pervasive sense that a reckoning may be upon us. Or, as Joan Didion said... "The wind shows us how close to the edge we are."