i.e., which details are minor,  periphery, fringe   . . . all depend on perspective, which

change.  Yours is not mine, and vice versa; nor one

moment’s focal point the same as

that of a minute before.

Yet, most of the time as I plunge full-ahead churning up a sudsy wake, I assume only one

reality exists, that one just forward of my nose, an assumption obvious to the point of embarrassment when I stop and shift

a moment’s drift in the current and whole new

vistas and focal points appear;  and behind me still

others.    The only thing that’s consistent among all this transience is what’s

stuck in my head, and even that can in the blink of an eye change.

Old business:  Check our Frank Markus’ Papillon denouement fotos here.    Frank… thanks much for getting these.    Ongoing business:  May the South Street Ex-port conversation go on here.

Happy end of April.  I’m off in search of a may pole or something.    Back soon.