Again there were circling hawks, and the smell of blades of grass still growing after having lately been sliced short. The sourgrass sports a thick covering of purple blossoms, the side yard flower bed is full of bright pansies, and all the roses bushes are blooming. The fruitless mulberry tree is not dead from its extreme pruning, and the stubby remains of its branches are almost concealed in the thick green of new leaves. May is being its old self again, and barely in time. The wind blew it back, I guess.
Were people in Los Angeles as insouciant in past as they are commonly believed to be today? Well, in 1952 a bus drove into a suburban cafe, and here's the result. The guy down the counter who looks like he's snorting a line is just writing, I think. It was 1952, after all.