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Upon an L.A. Arrival

Upon an L.A. Arrival

More than anything else, the expanse below me is familiar, forever within me, whether I want it to be or not. Even the city exploding over the hills and suffocating in the haze is home. Hundreds of miles north, I still feel it, this sense in my blood. Down below, the pure Californianess of it all, the golden hues, the marching oaks and the wrinkled mountains and the blankets of concrete. All of it.