PALM SPRINGS, CA – Though it’s only a 107 mile drive from Los Angeles, Palm Springs is a world apart from the city. The dust broils over onto the roadway, and as the mountain range narrows, the wind is funneled into the farm. It is said that a newer model of the windmill will power 185 homes.
From the Aerial Tramway, the rugged range is in full view. As we flash by, a sanitized voice narrates, to dull the extremity of the terrain, appearing to shift and shape according to nature’s whim. Soon, all of this is far in the distance below.
The vibes downtown, meanwhile, are immaculate. In the summertime, few are strolling about. Instead, they make their direct path, from point A to point B, without dallying too long in the dry spell.
The view you miss then are scattered architectural gems, a byproduct of a time and place. Amid the diners and coffee shops, drenched in A/C, are the restaurants and shops you’d find in many places. From the resorts to the East are Casinos and swimming pools for the vacationeers. However, the over-whelming sense of Palm Springs is that it is neither here nor there, but a place in transition for what you wish to attain.
Palm Springs Book Recommendations:
LA Woman, by Eve Babitz, 1982.
Told in tenuous time frame of a woman in LA.
Wonder Valley, by Ivy Pachoda, 2017.
A boy’s escape from the desert into the city.
postcardsfromanne.com 