It's a warm night. No stars, just a brown-black sky, faint scents o wet earth and plants mixed in with the occasional hum of cars passing.I'm listening to Fennesz's and Sakamoto's Cendre. It's one of my Fall/Winter albums, but it fits today of all days so much. Somehow even more than Sakamoto's Nagasaki(...). Every year I am reminded and every year I cannot wrap my head around the sheer scale of it. We are such an ugly, ugly species, so deserving all the ills we wrought upon ourselves.

It's a warm night and I count my blessings.