BUILT IN THE EARLY NINETEEN FIFTIES TO HOUSE THE LABORERS OF THE GROWING AIRCRAFT INDUSTRY, NEARLY FIFTY YEARS LATER THESE HOMES ARE HAUNTED BY THE PALMDALE WIND WHILE THEY ROT IN THEIR UNINHABITED CUL-DE-SAC
SITUATED NOT MUCH MORE THAN TWO ARM'S LENGTHS APART, FAMILIES WERE BORN AND RAISED IN THESE STRUCTURES
THE TREES AND SHRUBS THAT ARE OVER 40 YEARS OLD STRUGGLE TO SURVIVE THE DESERT CLIMATE WITHOUT DAILY WATERING
THE PASTEL CHEERFULNESS OF THE PAINT FADES
THE BLINDNESS OF PLYWOOD REPLACES THE LIVING WINDOW GLASS
THE CONCRETE OF THE DRIVEWAYS BEGIN TO RETURN TO THE ANONYMITY OF THE DESERT SAND
AN EMPTY ADDRESS LOCATED SOMEWHERE ON THE VAST LABYRINTH OF SUBURBAN ROADWAY
SUNLIGHT SEEKS CRACKS IN THE ASPHALT INTO WHICH DESERT SCRUB GRADUALLY RECLAIMS LONG LOST GROUND
POWER AND TELEPHONE POLES NO LONGER DELIVER HEAT, LIGHT OR CONVERSATION
A WARRIOR ELM STRUGGLES TO LIVE ON
EERILY THE STREET-LAMPS STILL PENETRATE THE NIGHT HERE, A NIGHT FEW GOD FEARING, LAW ABIDING CITIZENS HAVE LATELY VENTURED TO WITNESS
A WELL USED NEIGHBORHOOD, NEVER AGAIN TO BE AWAKENED WITH THE LIVES OF PEOPLE
