Almost skipped

It was a day of many fragments, each one lovely in its way. Spent the morning helping a friend prepare to audition for a brilliant play--great script, delightful to work on. Spent two and a half hours driving because there was a large parade on one of the major arteries of the city. I couldn't come anywhere near the parade, but I had plenty of time to enjoy all the flowers in people's gardens. Spent a hunk of the afternoon seeing a physical therapist who says if I can find the money, it would be helpful to have a few sessions to address a hitch in my gitalong. Participated in a teleconference meditation session with Jayna Gieber, who led the meditation on Sunday. Spent the evening deciding what to take to the beach. We leave tomorrow, and the forecast says it will be cold with thunder storms the whole time we're there. Just the kind of beach weather I love: wild and dramatic.

I was going to skip blipping today, but then I tried a double exposure--the usual view out the window superimposed on a view of the forest, which is what used to be in the place where the city is now. My friend Alberto Moreno posts a poem a day, and his poem for today seems to fit this photograph:

Manners are all we have left she says
So Mama brings out a chair
For the dead 
to sit on
The dead. 
Who have journeyed such a long time to be here
To sit at the threshold of life's feasting
This feast which each day
Grows colder
For you and me
-Alberto Moreno