Cocoon

When its dark, the back yard feels like a cocoon. I realize it's only an illusion, not really an enclosed space through which nothing can enter or depart. It has a nightlife. I always thought ants sleep when the sun goes down. Not so. I just stumbled upon a marching line on their way to...a party? It is Friday night, after all. The newly arrived, cool breeze is rustling the fountain grass and just as the bliss sets in, the air is cleaved by the mighty roar of jet engines, coming in for a landing. Then it's quiet again. The world never stops.

I dove in this afternoon and started rebuilding my tablet app that, a couple of months ago, accidentally had entire code blocks dragged into the recycling bin, by me, BEFORE I had created a checkpoint and BEFORE I could hit the undo button. We do these things so we learn to never.do.them.again. after we call ourselves every flavor of stupid. Then the day improved by leaps and bounds when an impromptu request for a Skype session with little sis came in.