Stuck in traffic. Bumper to bumper. Heat rising, hair-dos wilting, make-up running. Coughing, sputtering cars trapped like lemmings in slow motion, or a herd of wildebeest exhaustedly migrating en masse from the drought. AC turned off to save gas, to save the engine, to avoid the dreaded stall or the overheat. Windows are rolled down to catch a breeze, but then you catch a neighbor. You catch a glance, their baby’s cry, a tune on their radio, so you switch stations to match the beat. Your fingers dance on the dash, the steering wheel, the car door. A community is born on The 405.
How does it feel to be The 405? What is it like to be the highway beneath our rubber and steel and plastic steeds? On a day like today, with a monster traffic jam that cannot be fought, the highway is host to a party! The highway grins, not maliciously like you might think, but with hope that those who linger here will remark on their time spent in this landmarked spot as “the time” they were part of the great traffic shut down. Maybe they will look around and discover some beauty that goes unnoticed at 70 miles per hour. Maybe they will see some weeds!
Please come back tomorrow for a new “Weed Image of the Day” and let me know which ones you like.
We and our weeds are so much more than what we first appear to be.