Before I came to L.A., I never thought an urban highway could be beautiful. But as I accelerated onto the freeway this morning, coming around a sharp curve and onto a straightaway that merged into six lanes of high-speed traffic, I couldn’t breathe.
Mist had filled the pass, but it was thin, like the paper that covers a Chinese lantern, allowing soft light to spill forth. Behind and above the mist, the sky was bright blue, tinting the fog sky blue with a hint of pink. Mountains rose up on either side of the highway, covered by trees, and the whole scene looked so wild and ethereal that I laughed out loud, turned up the radio, sped onto the highway and toward the clouds.