LAVA LAND

SOMEWHERE BETWEEN BAKERSFIELD AND ANOTHER PLANET.

California has forgotten green.

The hills roll past in gold and brown, burned flat by heat. The foreground smears into motion, the ridges behind it look as if they have been poured rather than formed.

No houses. No trees. Nothing trying to make the place comfortable.

Just heat, distance and a road moving through it.

LAVA LAND looks like geology in slow motion.

Or California after someone turned the temperature up a little too far.