Clouds, flowers. The majestic meets the mundane on a Michigan country road.

I peruse the city from rooftops.

Awoken at 5:45 by the plangent shriek of birds in the tree near my window, I drew the blinds and saw pink. I was dreaming about, babies, houses, homes, the pleading eyes of an infatuated man and gardens. A text announced a friend in Florida going into labor.

Half-dressed but well rested I drove to East Hall to view the incipient day. From the steps I watched the yellow ball rise and made small talk with two pretty security guards coming off the night shift, two clumsy drunk dudes coming from a party, and two captivated vegan students walking their dog.