I'm having trouble finding photographs for the picture up top. They need to be, because of the width of the column and such, an uncropped portrait straight out of the camera reduced to fit the space or a cropped photograph that will fit those dimensions when reduced to size and the way I photographed the marathon didn't produce more than a couple out of many others. Not a big deal, I mentioned it yesterday, but it's something I've been thinking about, how I shot the thing, why most every picture required chopping off most of the photograph's top. Centered on the faces, of course, my particular bent, but maybe needing modification when shooting runners. I guess. Then again such is life. Art and life.

Overcast and they're saying a good chance of rain. I'd guess/hope no more than a light rain, but it's definitely overcast. I'm not sure where I'll go when I get out for my walk, but we'll see. That “things seem better” feeling I described should (will?) get me out the door I'm sure, rain or not. Light rain or not.

You babble, sir.

I do. Babble and procrastinate: no small part of my epitaph.

Later. A short walk down the way to the 7-11 look-alike to buy an ice cream cone, the wind cold. Enough of a walk for a morning, not enough to call it a walk. A next door errand. Ice cream. Stoke the fires, it's cold outside.

So far guitar, the chords are getting tighter, watching the news drone on and on. Pretty exciting stuff for a rainy morning.

Later still. No rain but a drop or two, but a brisker wind, setting out for the morning café again and walking the usual route along the lake to sit outside on the patio (I was the only one outside, there were but three tables taken in the dining area) feeding a pigeon.

A pigeon? Does it drink coffee?

Well, sitting there with my cup of coffee, a pigeon I've seen on most days when I'm sitting out on their patio approached, pecking and looking for bits and scraps of food of which there were none. I know the pigeon for its poor mangled feet, as if it had alighted on a live wire and they'd been fried. A hobbled pigeon making it in the big city. I was thinking, well, I don't have anything here at the table I can feed him, too bad, but I'm just not up for eating anything when the pigeon came closer and flew up to touch me briefly as if it were trying to land and sit on my leg. I've never seen a pigeon do this and decided it was a sign that I needed to go inside, buy a croissant, sit down again and deal out a pigeon's portion. Which I did.

No pictures, really. The weather seems to have moved the landing pattern used by the Oakland airport and a continuous stream of airplanes was passing over low overhead. More excitement in Oakland.

You've probably beaten that excitement bit to death.

Well, I was wondering at how well I was feeling as I was walking comfortably along (dressed warmly for the weather) on a rainy Tuesday. The mood was good, the mood was better sitting out on the patio at the café, the mood was better still walking back to the apartment. A kernel of truth of some kind in here somewhere, not quite sure what it is, what it means, what it portends. Just a passing thought, the mind idle, nothing much popping into view and demanding a picture.

Evening. For some reason I started looking for a particular image and spent the time backing up DVD's (that are themselves backups) onto an external dual hard drive, now the main backup repository for all pictures, and this seems to have kept me entertained for the rest of the evening with an occasional break to watch a particular program on TV and play the guitar. Got in quite a bit of guitar. Anyway, silly little tasks that seem to keep me happy through an evening. Nice when they happen.