Living in California has been a hu
ge culture shock to my Philly-born and raised system. When you’re used to your surroundings—the people, the weather, and the predictable rhythm of your days—moving somewhere entirely new feels like starting over. It’s like being reborn, where every step requires you to learn and adapt all over again.
For me, it took about five years to truly settle in and feel like I wasn’t just a tourist passing through. Now, I feel like I belong here. But there’s one thing I’ll never get used to: the Santa Ana winds.
Back in Philly, thunderstorms and wind were my nemeses. A severe weather forecast was enough to derail my entire day. I’d stay indoors, white-knuckling through it, while my friends teased me for being so weather-averse. I didn’t care—it’s just how I felt. Everyone has their thing, and mine was thunderstorms.
When I moved to California, I thought I had escaped my weather-related anxieties. With its famously perfect climate, there were no daily doppler checks or storm warnings to dread. My nervous system finally got the break it had long needed. And then, the Santa Anas arrived.
I always thought of the Santa Ana winds as romantic, thanks to my favorite comfort movie, The Holiday. There’s a scene in the movie where Jack Black is meeting Kate Winslet for the first time and the Santa Ana winds are blowing. He explains to Kate Winslet that the Santa Ana winds are what makes it so warm and when the Santa Anas blow, anything can happen. It was a cute meet cute but, there’s nothing cute about the Santa Ana winds.
If I were rewriting the script, Jack Black would say, “When the Santa Ana winds blow, things catch fire.” Because that’s the horrifying truth.
In the six years I’ve been here, I’ve come to dread the eerie howl of those winds. The warm breeze, the sound of palm trees swaying—it all feels ominous. This year’s winds were especially fierce, the kind that even lifelong Californians admitted were unprecedented.
And then the fires began. Pacific Palisades, Pasadena, Santa Clarita, Calabasas—all ablaze. It’s terrifying how quickly things escalate: one spark, carried by those relentless winds, can erase entire neighborhoods in moments. Lives are upended. Right now, as I write this, Los Angeles is still burning, and the winds are expected to pick up again.
Living in California has taught me a lot about resilience and gratitude. I’m incredibly lucky to have experienced this new life, but it’s not without its challenges. The truth is, moving doesn’t mean leaving behind your fears or flaws. They come with you, unpacking themselves in unexpected ways.
The Santa Anas have become my new storm—a reminder that life, no matter where you are, will always have its unpredictable winds. But they also remind me to appreciate the calm between gusts and to find beauty in the chaos.
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