Maps

good network maps: clear without color?

Posted on September 13, 2011 in Legibility, Maps, Portland

As I mentioned two days back, the new Spokane, Washington network map [Full PDF], designed by CHK America, is exceptionally clear in presenting the layers of the network so that you can see all of the following at a glance;

The network of frequent services, useful to you if you aren't willing to wait long.
The network of all all-day services (frequent or not), which is the total network if you're travelling midday.
Supplementary express services, mostly peak-only, that are likely to be useful only to the regular peak hour commuter. These always contain a high degree of complexity, so they must be presented in a way that visually recedes from the rest of the network, so that the all-day network is clearly visible.

The key point is that each layer is never allowed to distract from the ones above it.

But it has one other important feature that I should mention: If you look closely, you'll see that its content is still there if you copy it to black-and white. Line widths and styles distinguish all the service categories from each other. The only exception is the distinction between "Shuttles" and "Frequent Routes", both wide lines, and this matters less than it seems because the shuttles are frequent too.

All this is relevant not just because the world is still full of black-and-white photocopiers, but also because of color-blindness. Matt comments:

Recently I noticed playing around with Scribus, the Open Source Desktop Publisher (http://www.scribus.net) that "Scribus has a well developed tool, the Color Wheel plug-in, which helps to guide you selecting complementary colors, as well as visualize colors seen by folks with certain kinds of color-blindness.". So turning on an option for the three or four different types of colour-blindness lets you see what the colours look like for someone with each type.
Perhaps there is a chance that in the future a pdf viewer could incorporate something like that, such that bus maps (mostly they're rendered into pdf) and anything else in pdf could be seen as if you were colour-blind. Then the bus companies could experiment and release colourblind friendly maps.

All good, but the simplest solution for color-blindless issues is to design maps so well that the information is all there in line weights and styles, so that the color is supplementary — very, very helpful for those who can see it but not essential. The Spokane map does this.

The current Portland map also tries to do this, with a different line-weight for each of its four layers. The four layers are:

Light rail: colored line with black outline.
Frequent Bus: heavy solid colored line (and, if you look really closely, a yellow-shaded line number)
Basic Bus: slightly thinner colored line.
Peak-only: dashed line.

Portland's TriMet uses different colors for different lines, but if you copy it to black-and-white you should still be able to make out these four line weights (though not, of course, the feeble yellow shading of frequent line numbers).

I agree with many observers that the distinction between frequent bus and basic bus is insufficiently strong on the Portland map, whereas the Spokane map shows this distinction dramatically. In the past, when I've tried to use the Portland map as an example of clear delineation of network layers, I've been told that the distinction just isn't clear enough, so now I'll use the Spokane map instead. Still, Portland's intention is clear enough.

spokane: a very clear network map

Posted on September 11, 2011 in Frequent Networks, Loops, Maps

Spokane Transit (Washington USA) has a new network map out that is one of the clearest I've ever seen. It carefully delineates not just frequent services from infrequent ones, but also presents cases where basic infrequent lines combine to form frequent segments, and ensures that peak commuter express services are visible but can't distract from the clear all-day pattern. The whole thing in its full glory is here: Download Spokane 2011 map. The legend, too, is both clear and wonkish at the same time.

Congrats to Spokane Transit for designing this map for the public.

Full disclosure: I was the lead planner on a restructuring study for Spokane Transit back around the turn of the century, and if I remember right, our project invented the continuous two-way frequent loop of Lines 33 and 44. (The loop is closed on the west side as Line 20, as shown on the full PDF.) Despite many excellent improvements (and some sad service cuts) since then, it's great to see it still operating.

This kind of two-way loop is often useful as a way to combine radial lines and grid elements into a single service. Line 33, for example, intersects Line s 24, 25, and 90 in a grid manner, one line north-south and the other east-west, allowing for a range of L-shaped trips via a connection at this point. However, Line 33 also flow through so that the same segments can also be experienced as radial; if you stay on the bus, you'll get downtown eventually, and to a lot of other useful destinations.

I sometimes caution against excessive attachment to loops. In some contexts, with far more financial resources, I might applaud the breaking up of this loop, as I did of London's Circle Line. Given the extreme financial pressure on US transit agencies, though, I would contend that Spokane's frequent loop was an efficient solution, maybe even an elegant one.

UPDATE: The next post on the Spokane map, looking at colorblindness issues and comparing the map to Portland's, is here.

maps and aesthetics: washington’s hidden spiral

Posted on July 19, 2011 in Maps, Washington DC

Transit maps always express a choice about how you see the city. Do you want to show the city in its geographical detail? Or do you want to be able to show the structure of the transit system, which involves expanding some areas and reducing others, often leading to distortions of scale that mislead the geographically-minded rider? Like many, the classic Washington DC Metro map does this, shrinking outer distances and exploding inner ones.

Structure can be rendered many ways, and once you're free of literal geographic scale, it's tempting to create some other visual logic. Do you want to emphasise the concentric quality of your city, or do you want it to display many equally important points? Which is bigger, the lines or the stations? Do lines meekly serve stations, or are stations mere decorations on lines?

Even more basic, what kind of structure makes you happy? The designers of the Wellington, New Zealand transit map like diagonals, rounding all routings off to the nearest 45 degree angle.

It sacrifices certain geographical information to show the system in a certain pleasing way, which is fine.

Point is, you can find any balance of geographical accuracy, systemic clarity, and sheer visual pleasure, and still be accurate. As for whether it's useful, that depends on the audience and purposes.

So there's nothing technically wrong with mapping Washington DC's metro system like this (follow link for sharper one):

… as Andrew Bossi does. As a system map, it's a strong visual choice, but it's not inaccurate!

what maps should be at stops and stations?

Posted on July 13, 2011 in Legibility, London, Maps, Navigation

Yesterday I linked to a fine polemic by Kerwin Datu of the Global Urbanist, regarding London's much-imitated wayfinding system. Datu reserved particular scorn for the "spider maps" presented at certain stops and stations, which show you only the bus lines that emanate from there. Maps like this one. (This is actually the west half of a map showing bus routes from the bright yellow area where the map would be posted.)

Buses from Farringdon (West End)

Datu's quip again:

These maps, which TfL call 'spider maps', fail at the very first task: helping you identify your destination. Normally, once you've found where you're going on a map, you work backwards to where you are. But not here. On these spider maps, you are only shown where the closest bus routes want to take you, not where you want to go. It's like the old joke they tell beyond the Pale: when asking a local for directions one is told, 'well, if that's where you want to go, I wouldn't start from here!'

The maps have many defenders, however, so I should expand on why Datu's polemic resonates with me.

First of all, of course, the London maps only make sense at all in a network where all bus lines can be assumed to be frequent. That's true in inner London but not in many of the systems that imitate it. If we show the customer a big, bright line direct from their location to their destination, we're conveying an impression of physical existence. The bright line looks like a physical thing, like a road, not just the site of an occasional service event. The whole point of Frequent Network mapping, of frequent buses and rapid transit, is that we want people to make exactly that association, to see frequent services as always there ready for them to use.

But when we use such a bright line to refer to an hourly or peak-only or nighttime-only service, we undermine that message and give a misleading impression. Strong lines on the map suggest continuous existence on analogy with rapid transit lines, but these infrequent and short-span lines don't exist most of the time. They are probably not there when you need them.

All that, of course, is part of the case for transit maps that reflect frequency/span categories, both emphasising frequent and long-span services and specifically de-emphasising ephemeral ones like peak-only or night-only services.

But there's a more specific issue with spider maps or "buses from here" maps. They promote single-seat rides while concealing connection opportunities. More generally, they discourage people from discovering how to navigate the complete network.

There are contexts where this is fine. At an outer suburban station where the only bus services are local circulators and links to a few nearby suburbs, the "spider map" allows the customer to see the complete local network without having to find it in a massive map of the whole system.

But there's a different way to organize mapping at stops/stations that might be both more truthful and would help people see more clearly (a) the structure of frequent services that are easy to use even with connections and (b) the necessary detail for all services in a local area. That would be to provide two maps:

A Frequent Network map for the entire city (or if the city is as big as London, maybe a large subarea of the city). This map would have a prominent "you are here" mark, but its function would to say "here's everywhere you can go from here, on service that's available right now." (You could simplify this map by deleting some Frequent services that would not conceivably be useful on any possible trip from "here," but if you think broadly there usually aren't many of those.) This map would also convey a very useful subliminal message: "here is where you are in your city, and in your network." At least for spatial navigators, this map has a useful long-term value in helping people internalize the network so that they can navigate it more freely and spontaneously in the future.

A local area map, showing all routes emanating from "here" (or perhaps all routes with those from "here" highlighted) but just out to a radius of several km. The ideal radius is the distance beyond which you should usually be looking for rapid line, possibly with a connection, rather than a local bus line from "here." The local area map should be strongly coded to highlight Frequent services and downplay peak-only and other short-span services.

In both cases, lines exiting the map area should be labelled at the edge with any more distant destinations that you would logically use that line, from "here," to reach. (That may not be all the places the line goes.)

This approach would not lead the customer as precisely as a spider map or "buses from here" map does, but nor would it mislead the customer as much as those maps can sometimes do. Sometimes, the fastest way to get from here to there involves making a connection, but the connection may be very easy and very frequent, and we should resist mapping styles that conceal those opportunities.

That's my instinct, but maybe it's just my prejudice. What do you think?

london: questioning sacred maps

Posted on July 12, 2011 in Legibility, London, Maps, Navigation

Buses from Farringdon (West End)

Are you tired of hearing that London does everything right when it comes to transit? Do you wonder if the mapping styles widely copied from London are always the best? Are you even open to the heresy that London's famous Underground map, despite its global reach as an image, may be less than perfect? Then you'll enjoy Kerwin Datu's affectionate take-down of London's information system, at the Global Urbanist. My favorite bit, about the image above:

These maps, which TfL call 'spider maps', fail at the very first task: helping you identify your destination. Normally, once you've found where you're going on a map, you work backwards to where you are. But not here. On these spider maps, you are only shown where the closest bus routes want to take you, not where you want to go. It's like the old joke they tell beyond the Pale: when asking a local for directions one is told, 'well, if that's where you want to go, I wouldn't start from here!'

UPDATE: Excellent arguments in London's defense, in the comments. More responsible followup by me here.

chicago: living the grid

Posted on June 22, 2011 in Chicago, Legibility, Maps, Navigation, Paris, Rail Transit

If you visit Chicago, and a local friend tells you to meet her at the Western "L" station, then either (a) she's not really your friend or (b) she isn't as local as she claims. There are five stations called Western in the Chicago rapid transit network:

These duplicate names arise from naming stations solely after a cross street, without reference to the street or path the rail line is following.

But the secret language of Chicago transit desires is even more subtle. If your friend tells you to meet her at Western Brown Line station, she's probably a local, but if she directs you to Western Blue Line station, you're still in trouble. As you can see above, there are two. This one is the more scenic, but note the absence of any signage that might distinguish it from the other one:

Although there are a small handful of duplicate station names in other New World gridded cities (one pair in Buenos Aires, four pairs in Cleveland, two pairs in Philadelphia), New York City is the only system I know of where you'll see the same naming style used in force.

Few agencies, however, would give the same name to two stations on the same line, as Chicago does. Toronto, one of the few big cities that's as relentlessly gridded as Chicago, is obviously at pains to avoid it. Their U-shaped north-south subway line crosses many main streets twice, and in each case they append "West" to the name of the more westerly of the two.

Los Angeles, like Chicago, has a long Western Avenue that has two stations where different branches of a rail line cross it. But they didn't call both stations "Western." They used the full co-ordinates: "Wilshire/Western" as opposed to "Hollywood/Western."

How do Chicagoans cope with all these duplicate names, even on the same line? No big deal, says Jeff Busby, a Chicago-sourced transit planner now at Vancouver's TransLink:

In partial answer to your question, I would observe that the grid is an overriding organizing element for Chicagoans. Everyone knows that State and Madison is 0N/S & 0E/W and coordinates are powerful for knowing where you are and how to get somewhere else. Station platform signs give the N/S & E/W coordinates. Station names that reinforce their location in the grid are valuable. I know that Ashland is 1600W and Western is 2400W so that new restaurant I’ve never been to at 2200W is probably closer to the Western station.

To minimize clutter on the system map, stations are generally named for the arterial that crosses perpendicular to the rail line, but in the local language (and the on-board announcements) they are known by both cross streets. For example, the Loop stations are known as State/Lake, Clark/Lake, Randolph/Wabash, Library-State/Van Buren, etc even though they are abbreviated on maps as State, Clark, Randolph and Library.

In this sense, having five "Western" stations is not as confusing at it might seem. First, it immediately orients you to where they are — on Western Avenue, accessible by the 49-Western bus that travels from Berwyn (5300N) south to 79th (7900S), and a local suggesting that you meet at the “Western L station” would probably use a different term (from North to South):

Western (Brown Line) – Lincoln Square (after the neighborhood)
Western (O’Hare Blue Line) – Western/Milwaukee
Western (Forest Park Blue Line) – Western/Congress (or Eisenhower)
Western (Pink Line) – Western/Cermak
Western (Orange Line) – Probably Western – Orange Line as it’s not on a major E/W arterial

Indeed, the near universal repetition of grid number coordinates is a striking thing in Chicago. You'll find them on every streetsign and every platform station name sign.

So it really is possible to ignore all the street names and navigate a city of co-ordinates, much as you would do in Utah cities where you'll encounter street names like "7200 South Street".

Unique features of a transit system are often keys to the spirit of the city. Grids were fundamental to the rapid settlement of the midwest and west, so for Chicago — a city built on commerce to and from those regions — the strong grid is an expression of the city's economic might. All cities have street networks, but few cities attach such strong symbolic value to the nature of their street network, or celebrate it so explicitly.

And its certainly true that if you ignore the street names and embrace Chicago's numerical grid, there's never any doubt where you are, but of course that implies a sense of "where" that is itself grid-defined. I'm sure Parisians take pride in the complete gridlessness of their city, and would say that "Place de la Bastille" is a much more satisfying answer to the question "where?" than any grid coordinates would be. But then, Paris wasn't built to conquer a frontier.

mapnificent breaking through?

Posted on June 4, 2011 in Education, Maps, Public Outreach, Simulation

As WalkScore's fine transit travel time tool languishes in extended beta, the alternative, Mapnificent, is getting some mainstream blog attention.

I may still be alone in this, but I as I explored with WalkScore's Matt Lerner here, I believe this tool, whoever finally perfects it, has revolutionary potential. It can easily be converted into a two-digit transit score which, unlike the WalkScore Transit Score, actually describes people's ability to get places. But it's bigger potential is as an alternatives analysis tool. When you city is facing a series of possible alternative transit projects, what if every citizen could use a tool like Mapnificent to see the exactly impact of each alternative on their mobility, and that of people and destinations they care about.

A major problem in transit politics today is that negative impacts of a project are obvious but benefits are often described in terms of ridership and development outcomes — things that don't matter to the selfish present-minded citizen. We will always have selfish present-minded citizens, and I'd rather work with them than complain about them. Until we help people see the way a proposed project will change their lives for the better, sensible transit projects will continue losing these debates.

make your own transit maps! a success story

Posted on May 25, 2011 in Cincinnati, Frequent Networks, Maps

Frequent Network maps, which show you the transit network that's useful if you're not willing to wait long, have been a good idea for a long time, but it takes a while for ideas to move through bureaucracies in even the most competent and well-intentioned transit agency. So bravo to the agencies that now produce these maps in some form, including those in Los Angeles, Minneapolis, Adelaide, and Montréal.¹

Fortunately, you don't have to wait for the transit agency to do it. Today anyone can create, promote, and perhaps even sell their own maps, and now people are doing it. A few had already gone down this path, like Brent Palmer in Brisbane and Steve Boland in San Francisco. But my post on this topic seems to have started (or at least encouraged) a barrage of local innovation in cities all over North America and Australia. Within weeks I had a feast of map samples and ideas from Seattle, Vancouver, Melbourne, Columbus, and many others. The most beautiful of them was certainly Anton Dubreau's map for Montréal, but all showed interesting ideas on how you could attack the problem. They ranged, for example, from artistic hand-drawings to automated outputs (Los Angeles by Routefriend, Chicago by Jeff Wegerson) that could update automatically.

Back in January, Nathan Wessel of Cincinnati contact me to share an early draft of his proposed Frequent Network Map for that city. He had done this on his own, initially for fun. But since then, floodgates of opportunity have opened. Here's his story from an email to me.

Jarrett,
I thought you'd be interested to see how this all turned out.
The final version of the map is here: http://cincimap.org/CincinnatiTransitMap.pdf
A blog post on the launch event for the map at the Contemporary Arts Center:
http://5chw4r7z.blogspot.com/2011/05/cincinnati-transit-map-launch.html
I spoke to about 100 people came out for the event, including a board member from the transit agency and two city council candidates. Lots of designers, young folk, and activists.
I managed to print 30,000 maps with the money I raised and will add about 500 posters!:
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/1057319855/a-frequent-transit-guide-for-cincinnati/posts
About 5,000 have been distributed so far-to the library system, a transit agency and the people at the event and who donated.
The main transit agency has acknowledged on their website that their map is inaccurate (they hadn't before!): http://www.go-metro.com/maps.html And they are looking into paying me to make a map that includes all of their routes with park and ride locations.
And Cincinnati's largest university, the University of Cincinnati is printing 6,000 of their own maps for next year's freshmen class. Right now I am distributing maps to orgs and businesses with customers who ought to be riding the bus and being clear that if they want more, they'll have to(and can) print their own.
I even inspired someone in Dallas to do a similar project with their downtown pedestrian tunnels:
http://www.kickstarter.com/projects/dfwcre8tive/designing-a-map-for-the-dallas-pedestrian-network
Anyway, I wanted to share all this with you because your blog gave me the idea to start this project, and I want you to know you're helping to start good things 🙂
Moral: Don't wait for your transit agency to take the initiative! In our distributed and wired world, initiative can come from anyone, and that means you!

¹ Portland's TriMet was an early leader in this trend, but budget cuts have forced them to undermine the meaning of "frequent" to the point that Portland would be misleading as an example.

fictional city seeks reality check

Posted on May 21, 2011 in Education, Maps, Simulation, Urban Structure

Did you draw maps of fictional cities when you were 8 years old? If so, you and I are part of a near-invisible, uncounted minority.

If that's you, I dare you not to be interested in this! Even if you just enjoy maps of other cities, here's a chance to study a city you've never seen before.

For the transit planning course that I'm developing, I've created a fictional city that's designed to present a range of major transit issues, while also being an interesting place. I considered using a real city, but in my experience, planning for a real city slides too quickly to details that obscure the big picture of how a good network works.

My introduction to the fictional city is here: Download Game Newport intro (.doc)

A rich set of map layers, created in Excel, is here: Download Game data backsave (.xls)

Both documents are covered by the assertion of copyright that covers all of this blog's material.

I'd love feedback, especially about these questions:

Is the city realistic? Does it contravene what you perceive to be "facts" of geology, hydrology, urban economics, bird psychology, or post-1800 urban history?
Have I omitted information that seems relevant to the basic task of designing a transit network? Note that I'm not asking "have I omitted anything that might be interesting?" The austere novelist and dominatrix who sells rare Asian herbs out of her Craftsman basement at 3315 W 43rd St while also being the invisible brains behind a top eco-fashion label is extremely interesting, but I only had a day to put this together.

Have fun! The premiere of the transit planning course is in Surrey, British Columbia near Vancouver on June 9-10. Last I checked there were a few places left. Details here.

UPDATES:

Please do not try to comment based only on the illustration above. I'm getting many comments that indicate you've only looked at that image. You would need to download the files and look at the whole thing.
Apologies to those who had trouble with the .docx and .xlsx versions; these old formats should be more widely compatible and convertible.
The newest version now has layers for income and existing rail infrastructure.

Finally, I'm surprised at early comments that I don't have enough freeways! It's not a freeway dependent city, by choice. (See the .doc file above for more on the freeway wars.) But freeways that run only on the periphery and don't connect into the core are common enough in cities of this size class. See:

Victoria, British Columbia, metro pop 330k. Two small shreds of freeway, created only as traffic required.
Halifax, Nova Scotia, metro pop 372k. Fragments of an outer ring freeway, nothing into the city.
Christchurch, New Zealand, metro pop 390k at least before February's earthquake. One 5-km shred of freeway approaching from the north (Kaiapoi to Belfast), but it's really just an extended bridge.
Palm Springs-Indio, California, metro pop 365k. The area is bypassed on the north by Interstate 10, far from most of the urban cores.
Gold Coast, Queensland, metro pop 591k. A massive highrise hotel/retail core (30-60 storeys) at Surfers Paradise, a highrise business core in adjacent Southport, but the only freeway bypasses 7 km to the west.

The last two of these are not, by any stretch, leftist car-hating enclaves. In fact, they're exceptionally car-dependent. Still, no freeways near the core. It's possible!

great american “metro areas”

Posted on May 20, 2011 in Fresno, Journalism, Las Vegas, Maps, Seattle

When any US study or journalist refers to “metro areas,” they probably mean this:

These are all photos of US Metropolitan Statistical Areas (MSAs). Many, many national studies — most recently the Brookings study on “transit and jobs in metropolitan America” — mean “MSA” when they say “metro area.”

MSAs, however, are aggregations of counties. They’re the red patches on this map:

Counties come in all kinds of weird sizes, and are usually irrelevant to anyone’s lived experience of a metro area. Eastern US counties are mostly small, so MSAs there are often credible. But western counties are often huge, so MSAs have to be huge too. Almost two-thirds of California’s land area is a metro area by this defintion, including the “Riverside-San Bernardino-Ontario MSA,” which contains most of the Mojave Desert. Metro areas in America include the Grand Canyon, a big chunk of the Everglades, and the vast Voyageurs wilderness of northern Minnesota, accessible only by canoe or snowmobile.

So when the Brookings Institution, for example, declares that Riverside-San Bernardino is doing poorly on transit travel times to work, they’re referring partly to travel times from Needles to Riverside, a distance of about 230 miles (370 km) over open desert. They’re also implying that there ought to be intense transit service between the Riverside area and the Palm Springs area, even though locals largely experience these as two different metro areas. (Their centroids are 50 miles apart, the towns between are mostly semi-rural in nature, and if those facts don’t convince you, there’s also a 10,000-foot mountain in the way.) What matters to the MSA is that the two metro areas are in the same counties as Riverside-San Bernardino, so nothing else about their lived geography can possibly matter.

A deeper problem arises when all the demographic statistics of an MSA are declared to be features of a “metro area.” Consider the Visalia-Porterville MSA, site of the top photo above. The MSA, identical to Tulare County, has a 2000 population of 368,000. All of these people are counted in MSA-based statistics about “metropolitan America,” but only about half of them live in a city over 50,000. The other half live in much smaller towns and in rural areas. (The rural areas also have high labor needs, so they support semi-mobile populations, validly picked up by the census, that have no relationship to any city.) A fundamentally rural and small-town culture, indistinguishable from many other entirely rural counties, is being described as metropolitan whenever the Visalia-Porterville MSA is referenced as part of generalizations about “metropolitan America.” This culture is not just small and easily dismissed statistical “noise.” It’s half of the population of the MSA.

This is one of those absurdities that we’re trained to think of as eternal. Many weird and misleading boundaries (e.g. some counties, city limits etc) are going to persist even if they have no emotional or cultural meaning, simply because influential people are attached to them as a matter of self-interest. But how many people are really attached in this way to MSAs? And is it really impossible, with all the increasingly detailed information in the census, to describe metro areas in a more subtle and accurate way?

Even if we’re stuck with them, is it really appropriate to keep saying “metro area” when you mean MSA? It’s statistically convenient given how much data is organized by these crazy units. But are you really misleading people about what a metro area is?

In the sense that usually matters for urban policy, “metro area” means “the contiguous patch of lights that you can see at night from an airplane or satellite.” You can approximate this with census blocks. Their technical definition is something like “any agglomeration of contiguous census blocks that all have a non-rural population or employment density.” Census blocks are small enough that they can aggregate in a way that follows the geography, connecting what’s really connected and separating what’s really separate. Defining “metro area” in that way would finally mean what ordinary people mean by “metro area.”

What’s more, it would really cut down on bear attacks in “metropolitan America.”

Photos:

Kaweah Gap, Sequoia National Park, Visalia-Porterville MSA, California. Credit: Davigoli, Wikipedia.
Lake Mead National Recreation Area, Las Vegas-Paradise MSA, Nevada. (my photo)
Duck Lake and High Sierra, John Muir Wilderness, Fresno MSA, California. (my photo)
Matanuska Glacier, Anchorage MSA, Alaska. Credit: Elaina G, via Google Earth.
Melakwa Lake, Alpine Lakes Wilderness, Seattle-Tacoma-Bellevue MSA, Washington. Credit: Wikipedia.
Joshua trees in open desert southwest of Las Vegas, Las Vegas-Paradise MSA, Nevada. (my photo)

Older posts Newer posts