The sky held blue after a week of gray. One hopes for a peaceful new year, but in such a world, one has to hold on at least to a peaceful day rambling alongside a creek, a day to clamber over boulders and discuss everything from geopolitics to graffiti-ed rocks to good books, a day not to mind the piles of work that accrue or the dismal headlines. A day. One day. Beside a purring stream. Reflecting.