And then, suddenly, it is summer. The days are only a little bit hotter, yet the nights are warm and mediterranean. If Angelenos sat outside, this is when they’d do it. Yet people are fleeing LA for the long weekend, clearing the freeways, leaving the city behind.
Fires rage on the hills encircling it. At night, you can see their orange glow on the slopes. By day, an unwavering pillar of smoke marks their position. It mingles with the smog of downtown and tints the sunsets pink and orange. It rains soot over the city and can be smelled as far as the coast. And it greets the people coming back into LA as they fly through it: You might leave for a weekend, but the city is still here. With its fires.
And so is summer…