The Westside of Los Angeles has been hit by an unexpected tide of fog that is only seen in Harry Potter sets. For once, the rollicking waves that bombard against the vast shoreline were invisible from the bike trail; I could hear them, smell them, feel them, just not see them. To confirm my distance from the waters, I had to rely on the sight of seagull friends who in the past only approached me opportunistically, or rather, predatorily, for the salami sandwich clasped firmly in my hand.
I welcome the fog that comes once in a blue moon; venturing through these dense white veils of water dew offers opportunities aplenty to open my floodgate of creative juices, and to escape from the duress and stress of daily living. Depending on my whereabouts—urban jungle, the woods or wherever it may be—each experience is worthy of its own tale. On the streets of Los Angeles, ordinary pedestrians emerge from nothingness like the princes of darkness, with their silhouettes shimmering in and out of the mist from afar; I suppose when J.K. Rowling wrote about “Death Eaters” in her epic stories, she had something in mind that resembled what I described. Of course, being in flick country, there is always the off-chance that the poor slob I cross path with did actually play a Death Eater in the films.
Driving in the fog can be as hazardous as it is fun. I gaze out to the murky orbs of orange light that line up the oft-congested roads, imagining that they are the flickering candles of pilgrim horse-carriages on their way to the land of divinity and truth. As I run away in my quasi-mythical-medieval fantasy, an incessant screech brings my holy pilgrimage to an abrupt halt; it is not a witch’s battle cry, but a motor vehicle’s devil of a horn alerting me of the green light ahead – after all, I am in buzz-friendly Los Angeles. In many ways, for those of us who reside in concrete metropolises, aren’t we all running around in circles searching for our own sanctums of divinity and truth?
The invisible shoreline and the seagull friend.
El Chinas: An urban creature's musings. 