Sitting in Boulder, Colorado, on a Sunday morning

From my bedroom window, the south face of the building opposite makes lovely abstract expressionist patterns against the pop-art blue-and-clouded sky.

The big orange dog on one of the porches adds a touch of realism, and brings me back to the real world of ours.

The fact remains that the morning is still quiet, and my son is still asleep, and I can head out and do anything that I want to do. I have a brand-new city to explore, and the only and best way to explore it is to burst myself out of my habitual tracks.

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