Shangri-La and Route 487 Theres a street called Shangri-La almost too small to be noticed, hemmed in by maples and fog just outside of town. I’ve driven by it thousands of times but have never been tempted to turn -what would I do with perfection but mar it? The morning light divides paradise: I want to turn and look yet it hurts my eyes so I glance and wish to linger.













