Hitching a ride in Al Parker's van, I glide under an overpass, then curve off onto a ramp, looping up to cross our path below and into mountain greenery.

In this Pantone fan deck from I don't know when, the shade is 4692 SCRUFFY. Everything I might make out is actinic, aging, improperly stored.

Heading north, our silence is stable. Easy but iffy. Nothing serious. I breathe in the a/c. And light blows right through us.