It seems that Spring is springing in Los Angeles.

Since I moved to Los Angeles more than four years ago (god help me, the time does fly), the years have melded together in a way I'd never imagined possible back on the East Coast where turning leaves and occasional snowfalls remind a person that the time's indeed passing. But here in sunny Southern California, each morning's a new opportunity to put on your flip flops and ride with the top down. It's like it's been one long day since I arrived to Los Angeles--one long, sunny day.

That said, the one thing that's reminded me each year that winter--if you can call it that--is over and that Spring's begun is the smell of jasmine on the streets. I didn't know what the white flowers I smelled in even the dingiest neighborhoods was called at first. I just knew that the scent of jasmine was intoxicating.

Last week, I smelled the first jasmine of 2010 from a bush off a cracked sidewalk near my apartment in Koreatown. And I knew that the seasons were changing. And for the rest of this season I would linger a little longer on the jasmine-filled blocks. Even if lingering anywhere too long in my neighborhood is ill advised according to tourist advisory boards and police reports.