the space between the notes

My camera is getting pretty smart: it took this all on its own this morning from the inside of my pocket. How delightful.


I let the pups open run at the Doggie Park this morning, briefly since my old lady Katy is incapable of remembering she will be sore for days if she overdoes it.


She is learning not to try and keep up with Evan, who runs like a gazelle. We discovered this his first week with us when he ran for the hills, but Katy took a little longer to decide catching him will always be a losing proposition.


Instead, she follows me around the loop picking up every ball she finds and setting it down for me to throw. I've taken to short little throws just every third ball she brings to me, just to keep her from knocking out those hips.


The mountains are hazy this morning and we may see some snow mid-week.


But for now, we're still finding little treasures blooming everywhere.


What I like best in the whole world is Me and Piglet going to see You, and You saying, 'What about a little something?' and Me saying, 'Well, I shouldn't mind a little something, should you, Piglet,' and it being a hummy sort of day outside, and birds singing.

"I like that too," said Christopher Robin, "but what I like doing best is Nothing."


"How do you do Nothing?" asked Pooh, after he had wondered for a long time.

"Well, it's when people call out at you just as you're going off to do it, 'What are you going to do Christopher Robin' and you say, 'Oh nothing, and then you go and do it."



"Oh, I see," said Pooh.

"This is a nothing sort of thing that we're doing now."



"Oh, I see," said Pooh again.

"It means just going along, listening to all the things you can't hear, and not bothering."


An Empty sort of mind is valuable for finding pearls and tails and things because it can see what's in front of it. An Overstuffed mind is unable to.


While the Clear mind listens to a bird singing, the Stuffed-Full-of-Knowledge-and-Cleverness mind wonders what kind of bird is singing. The more Stuffed Up it is, the less it can hear through its own ears and see through its own eyes.



As Claude Debussy expressed it, "Music is the space between the notes."