i gave a dollar to a bearded man playing the fiddle outside of the wedge co-op. he yodeled, leapt from foot to foot, and prattled a bit in a charming bluegrass way while i sat on a rock eating a piece of chocolate. against the dusky blue sky of impending evening, a thin sliver of newly waxing moon hung jauntily. "you may have already noticed," the man said, fiddling away, "but may i present to you. . . the moon!"

i felt all of the burgeoning promise of a warm night in the city. the breeze swept the secrets of the music out and down past the waiting ears of the blades of grass. we were alive!

i biked to minneapolis to find that my plans had changed, so i called a couple of friends who live in uptown at the last minute. we picked violets and walked down lynndale. high on endorphins and vitamin d, i stood on my head (with permission) in once upon a crime, a charming bookstore that i highly recommend if you have any inclination toward mystery novels.