It's true that in Southern California, there aren't what you would call 'seasons'. Oh, sure, we have wet winters cold enough for scarves and mittens; in fact, there is snow in the higher elevations around Los Angeles. We also have gorgeous, sun-drenched summers, straight out of a Beach Boys song. If you look hard enough, we have spring, where a chilly wind whips around every corner even as the sun shines brightly, and in autumn we have a few days of what they used to call "Indian Summer" before the winter weather sets in.
I've always dreamt of going somewhere and watching the seasons change dramatically. I know it'd be a long haul, but I'd love to take KITT to Vermont in October. I could picture us driving along some mountain road, the leaves overhead forming a canopy of amber, topaz and ruby. I think it would be nice for KITT, who has the capability to exist far beyond a human's lifespan, to see all that transient beauty, to experience the cycle of nature up close and personal.
I have a picture in my mind that refuses to be shaken: Bright yellow leaves dancing across the glossy hood, almost as if we were in a snowstorm of sunset-colored leaves.
One of these days, I think with a smile as I see my own reflection in KITT's fender. One day soon.
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