It's far warmer than usual, I'm told, but even at the height of summer there's the cooling presence of a sheer caressing breeze. The sun beams brilliantly in the pure blue sky, illuminating the rich and vibrant colours of my surroundings; the olive green palm trees, the emerald lawns, the citrus hued flora and the dusky coral casitas.
We're on a road trip. In my book; the 'ultimate road trip'. We're travelling Route 66 - also known as the 'Main Street of America' and the 'Mother Road'. We're very excited. The famous US Route 66 came into force in 1926 - just in time to help the fleeing citizens of Oklahoma and the Eastern states during Dust-Bowl.
It's not often that one finds themselves completely at home in a strange place, yet the streets and silhouettes of the city of West Hollywood (or WeHo as it's affectionately referred to by Angelenos) feel intoxicatingly familiar and simultaneously seductive. My short stay is retreating hastily; as my plans over-flow in my mind.
I'm not advocating taking a torch to your local bank branch in California, but if you're going to face thirteen years for drawing with chalk, objectively, it makes more since to make sure the building is empty of people and just burn the bank down. That, more than anything, should show the absurdity of the charges these activists are facing and the creeping authoritarianism of the state.