On the shores of the Mentone Beach in Mentone, California there is a slew of washed up rust old junk. The dusty grey silt that lines the gutters and coats the empt lots seems to match the qualities of the broken down cars and trailers lie upon it. It is beautiful in a way, someone’s treasure, maybe (and more likely) just something long forgotten in the corner of a storage lot. Either way, it is a pretty good example of what you will see traveling through Mentone.
It feels like I am in a dream. As I step outside of my house and get on my bike, I feel as if I am floating past a world completely separate from my own. Only a viewer, passing people for merely seconds then out of their memory forever, and them from mine.
These people I see, although countless in number, are each on an individual path. Everyone has a day to complete. Maybe I have seen these people before. Maybe they have seen me before. Either way all of us are engaged in one common goal of traffic safety. As I arrive home I am relieved to be indoors and away from the traffic. I wonder what I will pass by tomorrow, maybe more antics of bored suburban desert people