Part of me wants to grab hold of all the possibilities in urban epicenters like Oxford, Paris, Montreal, NY, Vienna, yet another part remains very embedded here in WF wanting nothing more than the quiet, coziness & certainty of these mtns, of the songbirds at our feeder, of the ebb & flow of a sense of place. Yet when all of the doors are flung widely it is there that I find my deepest sense of place. I'm presently trying to fling open doors as if I'm in a smoldering university town from this wee little ski town not bent on full access to its inmost layers. Sometimes I succeed. Sometimes I get very tired.