3pm and on. Caught in between a rock, a hard place and technology. Specifically incrementing by two the count of hours wasted on quirks in a certain collaboration platform. Took stunned note of the surprised, confused administrators face, looking at the brief management dashboard and seeing to happen what shouldn't. Wrestling complexity with blunt tools. Who might eventually win?
3pm between houses and river. Afternoon got brighter, sun brought cold too. Watching one's steps through leaves and meadows, following up on conversations that seem to stand the passing of time. Some things never really change, and maybe in some situations that's a good thing.
3pm, slow motion. The day's lost most of its early warmth. Steps, sounds, moods change the very moment everything starts being covered in leaves. Almost like snow, but without the clean whiteness. Coffee and autumn bread, and pondering whether to get out again. Hours of retreat, in many ways.