Anno_salutis Driving from one begrudgingly air-conditioned government building to another. They share the same murals, the same easy and impatient reduced workforce.

On the bridge across a settled blue with antipodal small islands jutting out like the hairy knuckles of a tanned thumb, the cars roll with a pace. The streetlights are modern and have the sterile slight curve and unknobbed heads of dental equipment.
The concrete everywhere navigated expanses of almost cartoonish natural beauty. For all of our machinations, our encroachment
still seems modest. The natives the colonizers, in their rush to call it California, must've conceived of greater expanses than
this seemingly endless bridge.

Arriving near m destination my car dips under a long overpass, and is shrouded in cool darkness
away from the sun,
a strange analogue to the drab dim government buildings. I want to settle here,
rest in the shade, be hidden as trees and the overpasses grow around me.
I want the nativity of its cover.
what's it to you?
who go