I’m writing this article, irritated for no obvious reason, in the middle of a “Santa Ana event.” During these episodes, as if gridlocked traffic and social and political turmoil were not enough, Southern Californians must also deal with a veritable force of nature over which we have no control whatsoever: the hot and dry Santa Ana winds.
As I type out this article, the Santa Ana Winds are howling. They are blowing leaves, sending them into the air, and piling them up in front of doors like snow during a blizzard. True to their reputation, these winds have spurred a fire nearby, leaving me and my community in a smoky environment, both inside and outside our homes.
Southern California has the unique misfortune of hosting the Santa Ana Winds, which occur unfailingly throughout the year at random intervals. Like stories that are told among families over generations, they carry a mystique that is both unsettling and fascinating.
