Photo-finish Friday: out and about

A river runs through it. My commuter train paused for a moment on a bridge over these untroubled waters one morning this week. We're a few minutes from Union Station in Los Angeles. Yes, it's the Los Angeles River.

It didn't end up this way because city fathers preferred a concrete sluice to grassy banks, sand bars, and trees. For decades in the early history of the city, the river refused to stay in one place. A rainy winter would send it flooding wherever it pleased across the LA basin, wiping out everything in its path. Enough was finally enough, and miles of concrete were poured with the above result. Problem solved. But it makes you want to sing "Cry Me a River."

Photo-finish Friday is the bright idea of Leah Utas over at The Goat's Lunch Pail.

Coming up: Clint Eastwood, Pale Rider (1985)