Aftermath

South Pasadena is still discovering the tree casualties of recent hurricane-force winds. Many damaged trees that didn't fall during the storm are now awaiting removal. (Sigh.)

So THAT'S where you can find a Southern California Edison crew!

I kid, I kid...

Steadfast

The hurricane-force winds toppled giant trees all over town, and yet this little pomegranate managed to stay securely attached to its branch.

What a lovely symbol -- and natural ornament -- as we head into the holiday season.

One of Many

Walking through Garfield Park yesterday was a complete shock. Our shady central oasis is considerably less shady, with at least six trees toppled, awaiting the chainsaw and wood chipper.

Yes, many of the park's trees still stand. (This one is fine.) For that, I am glad. But with each passing day, I find another landscape dramatically changed and it's starting to wear down my nerves. The tree in this picture crashed right on top of the picnic table where Little Bit and I loved to have after school snacks. It's unsettling and creepy and sad.

I think it will take me a while to process the loss of so many San Gabriel Valley trees. (The loss of these were bad enough.) Maybe it will be easier when things get cleaned up. I've never been one for viewing open caskets, and seeing all these fallen trees feels a little bit like staring at corpses. I'd rather remember them as they were, and celebrate the ones still standing.

Our power finally came back on yesterday, but I know many South Pas residents are still hunkered down in the cold. For updates, check the Southern California Edison map here, and Patch updates here.

Play Through

South Pasadena's Arroyo Seco Golf Course was hit pretty hard by the windstorm. There are several other giant trees uprooted near this one. (I'm not sure how it affects the par for this hole.)

Power is still out for a large portion of South Pasadena residents -- including yours truly. Here's hoping things get back to normal soon. For status updates on power outages in South Pas, click here.

Fallen

I know it's not Darfur. It's not Somalia or Iraq. It's not Katrina or Fukushima or the World Trade Center. I know our own Station Fire destroyed so much more. I know.

We're very lucky. I know for the most part that structures did not topple. It wasn't human lives ripped apart. We didn't have damage from bombs or bullets. It could have been so much worse. I know, I know.

But I also know that we dearly loved all those uprooted trees. We loved the way they shaded us. We loved the way they turned our hectic urban jungle into a beautiful urban forest. Like contemporary pagans, we don't just like the landscaping -- we love the company of trees. When one falls, we feel it like the loss of a spiritual cousin. When hundreds of trees are lost, it starts to feel like there is some kind of rift in the rightness of things.

While I'm grateful that most trees were spared, I've seen so many fallen ones in South Pas and Pasadena in the last few days, I feel shaken. Familiar landscapes are changed and I can't pretend that I won't miss what used to be. And one thing is for certain: the Christmas tree lots with all those chopped-down trees seem a bit ghoulish now.

Windstorm

"Los Angeles weather is the weather of catastrophe, of apocalypse, and, just as the reliably long and bitter winters of New England determine the way life is lived there, so the violence and the unpredictability of the Santa Ana affect the entire quality of life in Los Angeles, accentuate its impermanence, its unreliability. The wind shows us how close to the edge we are."

--Joan Didion

There was a desert wind blowing that night. It was one of those hot dry Santa Anas that come down through the mountain passes and curl your hair and make your nerves jump and your skin itch. On nights like that every booze party ends in a fight.

--Raymond Chandler

(More on all of this when power is restored.)