* Picard reading Shakespeare's Sonnets. He does not read those he does not like.
* Reading a book set in Scotland, I notice typos but then wonder if they are Scottish words.
* Lying in bed as new light filters through the gap in the curtain, I estimate the time. My eyes crave something of beauty as their first focus at mornings. The medallion quilt (I calculate its age=38 years) hangs just there. White walls. Dried eucalyptus. Fuzzy dog patiently waiting. Colors of 'Flaming June'. Shape of a crab apple tree outside. Then, gratitude...for another night survived, for love known, for children safe, for trees living, for remembered people, for, for, for....
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