It's always the last place you look. I got a bead on my direction from sun-reckonning. I found the hatchway and ladder down out of my skull, to use a sensor-inspired metaphor. I feel solid, now, again, a bit more energized and confident than I did this morning. It's strange how the emotional states change with time and stimulus. It was beautiful outside today. The sun burned off the cloud cover but left big patches of white cumulus clouds. It was nice and cool and sunny. It was lightly breezy and not windy.
It started with a seagull. He was sitting up on the corner of one of the Windriver buildings next door. He was making that earnest croaking that I'm sure gulls consider singing. It made me laugh. I took his picture. I spend my walk submerging myself in sensations. I felt the breeze running in my hair and on my chest and arms, cool then warm, like being brushed by different textured fabrics by turns. I spend a lot of time smelling the air. It's surprising how many smells there are to experience, provided that one's nose is working. I have a mind to count them, one of these days. Over on Fifth Street I noticed that the cedar bark and shavings that they use around the hedges does not smell like the cedar with which I had been mostly accustomed, growing up. It smells a bit "marshier," or like it has a few more sour notes in it.