The Plaza

I'm sitting in the Plaza of Santa Fe, with a roast beef sandwich and coffee from one of the many cafes. It's a Sunday morning and hundreds of people are walking, talking and lounging on the many benches. The scene is very tranquil and eclectic. No one is rushing. Two men are puffing slowly on cigars. A man with 5-foot dreadlocks passed by with his kids. Large tour groups walk by. No one is speaking loudly except a few kids playing. An empty police car is parked at one corner. A kid with a big earring and a ponytail is walking his German shephard. There's an unsecured wireless network in the park which I'm connecting to. Even the pidgeons are enjoying the weekend, until the kids start chasing them with Indian war cries. The cars are all driving 5 MPH. The cafes are all full. The sky is what the Weather Channel meteorologists (in their scientific lingo) call "fair."

The skyline is very low here. With an abundance of open land, all these desert cities have the luxury of building out instead of up. Maybe the pace is slower because of that: it takes longer to walk down the street than take the express elevator.
The clocks switched back an hour last night, so sundown is going to be really early from now on. I'm still on the old routine of late sleep and late start, but maybe I'll have to start starting each day earlier.
There's an expression used here a lot, "I sure don't." I've never heard it used so often before. Like "I sure do," just in the negative. It's kind of funny, like it has a built-in reassurance, the "sure" added in case you're about to ask "really?" I'm not sure if it's just a New Mexico thing or if it's used east of here too.

The kids just caught one of the pidgeons and let it go. An older fellow sees my laptop and asks if my battery exploded (because of the Sony recall); I say "not yet" and wish him a good day. It is a good day.