Last night I was transfixed by the mesmerizing half-moon that hovered over my town. This morning I am transfixed by the bright, July morning sun that sharply demands my attention as it attacks my slim grip on reality thru the windows in my garage office. The moon goes down at night; the sun also now rises in the the morning. It never gets old. The quotidian and the mundane is what's continually real. The unreal world can wait its turn until the sun moves on up.