I generally tend to ignore motorcycles. To me they are loud and uninteresting, like so many things in Los Angeles.
But when a motorcycle decides to truss itself up for the holidays, I feel that I must reassess my opinion.
Walking home from work today I noticed that the bike was gone, leaving its autumnal accoutrements behind. I rather believe that its owner rode his bike out, after parting the pumpkins carefully – and when he returns he will just as carefully pile them high once more.
People must find their holidays where they can.