Commentary: Spring is a real thing in L.A., if you go to the mountains
The phrase “spring in L.A.” has about the same level of meaninglessness as “ it feels like a Tuesday .” Yes, we have jacaranda season and June gloom (or May gray) — both of which fall in the three months known as spring — but it’s hard to think much more of spring in this part of the world than “a little warmer than winter” and “slightly cooler than the summer.” That’s the price of living in year-round Mediterranean pleasantness: We forgo the seasonal rejuvenation that inspires poets and songwriters . All that is true if your idea of L.A. encompasses only the paved landscapes of the city and its suburbs. Venture just beyond the reach of our northern urban frontier and into the San Gabriel Mountains, and you’ll see a real spring unfolding — snow melting, rivers and streams flowing, wildlife emerging — in sublime glory. This isn’t news to hikers or anyone else who spends time wandering in the local mountains. We salivate over the springs and summers nurtured by a winter of decent rain and snow ( as this one was );