The oaks thin and the hills are more arid on the eastern side, but the land has a hum that lends to the feel of driving on a padded highway and I melt into the landscape gliding down the grade, pulling at me like a vortices, and all thoughts of the past and the future dissipate, and I just drive.
There is a phone on the corner of Del Puerto Rd. and I think about how strange it looks, when once they were everywhere, and I am reminded of how things change and we dont notice, we become accustom and cannot recall how things once were
imagicos 