Today I remember why I left Los Angeles and moved back to the Bay Area almost 2 years ago. It was for days like this . . . only mid-September and as I strolled through my neighborhood today there were leaves crunching underfoot, a crisp cool wind that made me cinch my sweater tightly around me, the scent of smoke tumbling out of several chimneys down my block. This is the sort of weather that makes me feel sharp and alive, that is conducive to both daydreaming by the fire with a steaming mug of cocoa, or focused writing and drawing and satisfying outbursts of creativity. When temperatures soar above 80 degrees, my mind becomes flaccid, all my energy is depleted and I accomplish absolutely nothing. But on days - and evenings - like this one, I feel I can take on the world.