From the fisheye, I spied him, the jay on the porch hopping from chair arm to chair arm with the click of talons closing around metal, tapping on the tabletop, beaking around the planters with their dead dried leaves, until he found the Buddha and came to a stop, cocked his head, stared at the closed eyes and restful face for a long, drawn-out moment and then flew off to continue his data gathering. I had another lovely evening with my friend who also cuts my hair, visits that leave me wanting more of her and wondering why the social life of introverts seems so difficult to manage.