Rose vines fight suburban homogeneity, sand gathers in the trunk of his car, bright tangerine punches a lavender sky. I’ve decided that this place is a slice of heaven on earth- an irrefutable dreamscape for the mind to imagine as widely as the horizon stretches before your eyes. It’s not a place that fades to the background with nondescript memories. There is no denying how distinctly dreamy the subtle details of the sun remains long after your departure. Walking in still chlorine waters and we’re all in agreement. “Fuck man, I’d live here in a heartbeat. Seriously, Southern California is a god damn dream.” Dylan never even liked swimming pools until he went to the one on Coltrane.
We descend down hundreds of wooden steps over the lands edge on to a crescent moon shaped beach. Indigo saltwater crash over rocks stroking white caps across the sand. I stare as stratus clouds chase the sun to the edge of the earth. We plant our grill in the sand, light a spliff, and curl on the blanket to grill sliced taro, oiled peppers, and buttered scallops over warm charcoals. I think to myself, I could stay right here until the sun rises behind me. Vampire Weekend loops between Irvine and LA for three days as we unknowingly create memories we’ll long for in the months, maybe years, to come. •