I’m embracing this moment in LA after election disaster — before years of chaos

With the election behind us and a bumpy ride in front of us, can we just take a moment to celebrate fall in LA?

Every fall, no matter how blue life may be — Los Angeles wins me back. 

Fiery colors. Cool, crisp air. Breezy nights. 

LA, depicted by some of the finest authors as seasonless, really does have a distinct vibe each fall.

It’s a city is to save and savor and strengthen.

Don’t get me wrong; there’s something magic about autumn generally. In Kyoto, towering orange and crimson maples frame ancient temples and meticulously manicured gardens. Then, there’s the enchantment of Bavaria’s fairytale castles set against the backdrop of alpine forests and autumn harvest festivals. 

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And then, there’s LA. 

It’s cool morning air with sprinkles of the salty sea, followed by a warming of the temperature several hours later that is enough to allow for lunch outdoors on a sunlit patio. By sunset, I’m reaching for a wispy jacket. 

Even a workday doesn’t feel as laborious with weather like that. 

You cannot deny the magic of LA in fall and it’s precisely when I fall back in love with this city. Having lived in cooler climes, I know what a luxury it is to eat outside in November. I still get a little thrill every time someone asks, “Shall we sit outside?”

Florida is nice, but the humidity in South Beach is a bit much. And after a summer in Sweden, which is all but about two weeks long, I’m in no rush to put layers upon layers of sweaters and coats back on. 

In LA, we can wear shorts autumn. While I do prefer a sophisticated winter wardrobe over skimpy summer attire, I don’t see the need to add four months of cold-weather stress to life’s equation. There’s something comforting about not having to pack away an entire season of your life just because another one has arrived.

And then there’s the fresh fall fruit. Among my favorite ways to spend a fall Sunday is at the Brentwood Farmers Market on Gretna Green Way near San Vicente Boulevard. In September, you’ll find figs and heirloom tomatoes. By late October, it’s the pomegranates that tantalize. And by November, the farmers markets are covered in the deep and bright oranges of persimmons and satsuma mandarins. 

On any given Wednesday or Saturday, it’s the Santa Monica farmers market on Arizona Avenue. I like to follow up with a walk west until I reach the Pacific. 

Many have argued that LA doesn’t have seasons; it’s among the most common literary tropes in novels set in the city. From F. Scott Fitzgerald to Bret Easton Ellis to Aldous Huxley, great authors have depicted LA’s weather as blandly monotonous, even numbing.

I disagree. Fall in LA is quietly assertive. The sun sets earlier, the crisp snap in the evening air is refreshing — invigorating — and suddenly I’m bringing home pomegranates and persimmons instead of figs and tomatoes. Those are changes I look forward to. 

And having lived in places where the weather makes every decision for you, I appreciate a season that leaves a few up to me. 

Sometimes it takes going away and coming back to appreciate the magic of a fall walk by the Pacific, warm drink in hand, and lingering just a bit longer to watch the sun set over the ocean. 

It’s easy to forget how good we have it until we find ourselves ordering another coffee after the check arrives just to bask in the November sun a bit longer. 

It’s a place where anything feels possible, but also where a weekend at home can feel like a vacation. 

That’s one reason why, even after a bruising election, I remain bullish on Los Angeles: It’s a city to fall in love with … especially in the fall.

Adelle Nazarian is a journalist, entrepreneur and commentator covering politics, culture, technology and the ideas shaping America.