I had a frustrating day, trying to repair my map server. I’m not sure if I’ve repaired it, now, but I got into one of those obsessive mindsets that made me recall that in fact, Arthur and I behave quite similarly around computers. Although I think I don’t cuss quite as much as he does. It seems to kind of work. Something amiss with the database.
In darkness, in rain, trees still lurk.
[daily log: walking, 1km]
Day: September 18, 2019
Caveat: Poem #1144 “Luna’s dissolute moods”
Just at dawn the moon gazes downward. She turns her bright eye to the trees. The clouds thin and part for her. The rocks reveal their dreams. The sea is bashful. She watches birds. She tastes air. She slumps. Pale.
– a nonnet
