One of the things I like about living in Los Angeles is the fact that you never really know what you’ll see, what you’ll hear, or even what the weather will be like from Monday to Friday.  (Last week, for example, it rained Monday morning when I took my son to school.  By Friday, we were experiencing 90 degree temperatures).

Also last week (more than two full months before the holiday), I saw a Christmas tree being assembled.  The Grove, a large outdoor shopping center, always has a giant Christmas tree on display for the holiday season.  It becomes a whole extravaganza culminating in a tree-lighting ceremony, complete with fireworks.

A few days after that tree sighting, our family spent time at a local park where I saw tall, magnificent trees that made me feel as if I was in a forest instead of a city park adjacent to a major thoroughfare.

I can’t seem to get these giant trees out of my head.  The first one I saw, the Christmas tree, is so “staged,” yet if The Grove didn’t have the tree each year, I’m sure I would feel as if something was missing.  The park trees stood strong and proud, and I wondered how long they had been there.  I found it reassuring that with all the change that has happened in that neighborhood, these trees were still thriving.  I stood under them and strangely enough, felt sheltered and protected. 

It was a surprising feeling.  And hopefully not an “only-in-L.A.” feeling.