I’ve been listening to selections from my father’s record collection and can’t stop playing one of his favorites, Frank Sinatra’s “Summer Wind.” Aside from the fact that it is a small masterpiece of classic American songbook phrasing — and no one could do that quite like Sinatra — it’s a wonderful memory of my father. It also reminds me of one of the lovely things that makes life in Los Angeles so comfortable: Even on the hottest days of summer, there are morning mists and afternoon breezes that come in from the Pacific.
Our summer winds are always cooling ones here. (In winter, of course, we get the dry wind off the desert which is named for the devil, but that’s another story.)
It’s the cooling wind that once made this place the citrus capitol of the world and filled our valleys with orange and lemon trees. I live in one of LA’s hottest valleys, and on this morning I can smell citrus and jasmine blossoms in the cool breeze. Bliss.
Sometimes there is nothing better than sitting in front of an open window,
with Sinatra on a record player.
Happy Tuesday everyone!
PS: Photo above from Toast.