ALL I can say is “sigh.”
On Sundays, my family, like so many across the country and beyond, used to take advantage of space and a clock that for many of us felt slowed-down if only for 24-hours. That’s what Sunday was for. I wasn’t around this far back to see this Los Angeles. This Los Angeles is the city my parents arrived in from points East and South. They looked around and figured, well, why not try this out.
I stumbled upon this image one night recently (and a set of others here) and realized, as I looked at many of these gorgeous photographs of an L.A. that I got a quick-glimpse of as a child some decades later, that I don’t really drive L.A. end to end the way I used to. We all sit and stew and swear. That Sunday drive now for me is virtual, but boy was it great to reach back and see these gorgeous shots of buildings I’d circle over and over on foot or in my car as a teen.
There is still that magic here some Sunday afternoons. It’s just harder to see and hear now — but you feel glimpses on occasion, on a hot day fueled by a furious Santa Ana, it’s the jasmine and the honeysuckle a float on the wind– like a ghost drifting by.
— images via “A Selection by Allen Roth