There is a poetry in the lyricism of a blue sky dotted with a few white clouds and golden sunlight that follows the day around like a loyal golden retriever. Days seem slow even though they are speeding towards autumn and then winter. Everything feels like it’s renewing, and I even saw someone from the outdoor day camp I was volunteering at. Since he was a better climbing than me and younger by 10 years, I was inspired to climb a little better. But admittedly I was lazy, and decided to take up the art of capturing the day as the day wore on, which would never be the case on an actually demanding trip. The wall we were on was called Burgers and Fries, and there just wasn’t that profusion of 90 degree ridges that my fingers like to read. If the wall were a poem, it would be a lazy pastoral and my fingers preferred to read angular prose.