This little guy was already picked and discarded on the path up in Bronson Canyon, waiting for a ride back down the mountain. I used to hike there every morning when I lived in Beachwood and I got a little nostalgic for my old tiny apartment and the shops along Franklin. I had no idea that that time in my life would be romanticized by my future-self ... which makes me curious about the "me" that will look back on this time in my life as something maybe beautiful and unknowing.
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