I’m not a fan of taking the trash out at 9:15 at night and stepping into 80-degree weather.

Last week we were lucky enough to get some much needed rain. A few days later, it still felt like fall was in the air. Today, not so much.

This time of the year kills me. It’s like summer is still hanging on, not ready to give way to cooler temperatures. A couple years back, I remember we went from high heat straight into two weeks of solid rain that finally came…in December. Prior to that, we roasted on Halloween and Thanksgiving.

And while we’re (meaning I’m) on the topic of holdiays, if there’s one thing I give two giant thumbs down to, it’s a sunny, warm Christmas. C’mon.

But if there’s one thing that California always teaches me, it’s patience.

Patience when it comes to rush hour traffic.

Patience when driving for two hours to go 30 miles.

Patience when it comes to road-ragers who wreak more havoc than the havoc they’re irritated at in the first place.

Patience when I go from driving in the shade of palms to being blinded by a beautiful sunset.

Patience when it comes to waiting — agonizing, in fact — over when we’ll get the first rain of the season. Inevitably, we do — and its beauty, not surprisingly, is amplified by the wait.

Patience when it comes to waiting for those crisp fall nights and mornings where frost rests on neighboring rooftops — because when dusk and dawn arrive with their chill in hand, we revel in their presence even more. We savor them.

Patience when it comes to waiting for that first, cold weekend where the rain on a Saturday morning both keeps us asleep, then gently wakes us up. Bonus points if it’s chilly enough inside to need an extra blanket on the bed.

Tonight I am thankful for the heat still lurking outside, because I know it tells of days just around the corner that are more mild, more characteristic of the autumn and the holidays to come. I’m not happy that I have to, but there’s nothing left to do but to patiently anticipate our cooler weather. And so I shall wait for it.