how lovely to sleep as late as I like and wake up to complete quiet - rustling of the leaves outside and the distant train whistle.

Last night was kindof a revelation. It made me realize is how insular my focus is. I am so captured by my own little aesthetic universe that I honestly don't even have an opinion (much less an intelligent contribution) on so many subjects. So I sat and let the conversation wash over me - books everyone had read, articles in the post, segments of NPR - the war, politics, global warming.
This morning its back to the real world, outside, barefoot in the muddy backyard taking pictures.