The San Gabriel Mountains as well as others here in SoCal have been dusted with their first snow of the season, and our skies have been delightfully gray the past few days. Yesterday one section of the range was in the setting sun’s vibrant amber spotlight; the air was so clear and crisp that you’d swear it was possible to reach out and trace each ravine and craggy peak with a single finger.

These are my favorite days of the year. So often it seems summer’s grip doesn’t loosen until it senses the irritation of the masses, if even then. An 80-degree Christmas is always possible in these parts, yet never festive. This year, however, it seems Mother Nature is delivering the season in a relatively timely manner. I hope it sticks around.

In the same way that we expect the seasons to live up to their usual definitions, we too expect certain things from the seasons in our lives.

Some go as planned, others are more tumultuous and destructive. Some seasons happen right on time, others are slower to materialize.

Regardless of what’s in our minds, the seasons come and go — behave and misbehave — as they please. We can’t control the winds of change, the intensity of the UV rays or the snow level, but we can be prepared with a windbreaker, sunscreen and chains for our tires. Weathering the seasons as best as possible is usually all we can do. On any given day, though, we can take comfort in the fact that the weather is as it should be — good or bad.

Tonight I am thankful for the message in the mountains and their perspective on expectations. While we may get exactly what we hope for, other times might throw us a curve ball. Either outcome is out of our hands, but both require the same thing: acceptance, appreciation and the belief that things are as they were intended.