bends

In the distance: Baldwin Hills rise on the horizon, southeast of our parking garage. Fire lanes drape the side of the mountain like a sash, or garland across a tree. From my vantage, I see two lanes, one above, one below; perhaps these are continuations of the same road, forced to curve along the mountain, rounding itself in rhythmic turns to aid the climb of motor vehicles. Just then, I notice along the top road a white vehicle descending, and at the same time, a black vehicle ascending. All at once a symphony of movement along the side of the hill, taken in through my soft-focus gaze.