The bush tits are nestled up close in the protective labyrinth of a solitary tree, hidden away and isolated from all those on the busy city sidewalk who walk past their involved conversations distracted and unnoticing; and yet we all look to the sky, feeling a sudden chill as the rains fall and the cloud cover lowers, as we wonder in our own ways if the yearly Long Grey has begun. Once again, I stayed up too late and am paying for it today, though with a new routine in hand and a new dedication, I hope soon to be a better person to myself.