pink sunset in beverly hills 

If you’re driving from the east side of Los Angeles to the west at dusk, which is to say rush hour, you will meet...traffic. But that’s not all. Look up when you get to a stopping point—and there will be many (read: traffic)—and you will witness the skies turning from powder to pale blue to scarlet. Prosciutto pink. (Or, if you prefer, watermelon.) You’ll see skinny mop-topped palms, their ragged shapes an inky black against this surreal background. You might feel, as I did on this night, on my way to the Annenberg Space for Photography to hear a lecture, that there are choices to be made in life: Get jammed up about stuff you can’t control, or savor something lovely that you’re lucky enough to have.