Prequel: Pasadena
My fingers tightened on the wheel and my shoulders hunched in frustration as the traffic crept slowly forward through the dark orange haze. With the wind from the north, the smoke from the fires in the Angeles National Forest choked the air. One of the benefits of living in Altadena, in addition to not being the only black face in the neighborhood, was the commute on surface streets rather than SoCal freeways. It usually took just 10 minutes to get to work. Traffic this morning though was slow, due to the unusual darkness and eerie hue caused by atmospheric smoke particles filtering out the blue wavelengths from the morning sunlight. As entrancing as the effect had been when I first experienced it while at Berkeley during the fires in 2020, the thrill had worn off with repetition. The traffic started to ease after I entered the park and, relaxing slightly, I turned north and soon was pulling into the Jet Propulsion Laboratory parking lot. The lot still half empty I was able to park near the entrance. Checking the fit of my N95 mask, left over from the pandemic, I got out of the Audi and quickly shut the door behind me. Through the fall of fine grey ash I headed into the building.
