Today, on my way out for my first mountain biking adventure in La Tuna Canyon, made possible by the near 85 degree temperatures, in March, no less, I was zipping along the freeway, bright beams of sun baking my left arm as the unseasonably hot desert wind dried out my sinuses, when tiny, white flakes began cascading across my windshield. I checked the rearview and confirmed it: Millions of soft flecks of white were whipping across the 4 lane highway.

It was when I looked at the road ahead of me again and saw chunks of styrofoam, probably fallen from a garbage truck up the road, being smashed to bits by oncoming traffic. Everyone around me was smiling.

For a few, glorious moments, it was snowing in Los Angeles.