If I were a certain kind of bear, I would be closing my eyes and placing my large, soft nose in the crook of my arm, journeying into the vast Dreamtime as the days grew short and the wet rain turned to snow, but I am not that kind of bear, and so I blink at the struggling light, disoriented by the change, and walk the lands of the fading sun instead. I’m ready for the weekend, and that’s all I can say of my experience today for a few hours of nothingness awaits me.