Back in Arizona after the first 12-hour driving day of many to come between California and Vermont. Here it is crisp and cool and the registrar isn't sure why I never recieved my diploma. There is some snow on the mountains, and some ghosts hiding in the juniper flats. Too many people to see, too many places tugging me towards them. Instead I take a nap - interrupted by the Jehovah's Witnesses - drink too much tea, and try to write. Sun through the oak outside and the ficus inside, deep blue sofa, cashmere blanket, a long haul ahead. Perhaps another nap is in order.