I was going to write about our Sunday Stroll, but I can't do it justice, because I gave my camera (full of great pictures) to my son, so he could put it on my computer desk. All of the household is quietly sleeping, except me. I spent a good half-hour looking for the camera and becoming increasingly frustrated.
I now quit. I am going to bed, to sleep, perchance to dream.
The soul of man is like the rolling world,
One half in day, the other dipt in night;
The one has music and the flying cloud,
The other, silence and the wakeful stars.
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