Last night, I stayed over with friends in Western MA. They live 20 minutes from today’s conference, much better than the 2 and a half hours from my house. I treated them dinner at a nearby Indian hole in the wall, where we caught up and shared news and advice about moving to Western MA.

The night was full of crickets and warm summer air. A Tuesday evening in Greenfield isn’t a bustling event, just people taking their time settling down and enjoying the cooler breezes.

This morning, it was quiet. Cool. A ceiling fan kept the air busy, softly. The fog was lingering on the roads and sidewalks, and those of us up early were quietly moving, so as to not disturb our still waking neighbors. Across the street from my friends, a cat slowly stalked their morning meal through the grass. I had breakfast at a local diner, the kind of place that emphasizes good cheap food while the local men come in and shoot the breeze before the main rush. I drove to the conference, and only regretting not stopping to take a gorgeous picture of the fog lifting from a river.

The conference itself has been a shitshow, and it’s only two hours in. But I wanted to capture this morning, just to remind myself and you, that this is what life is. Quiet, non-intrusive beauty that you don’t have to buy, just be open to receiving.

A zoomed in image of a black and white cat stalking through some grass at the edge of a garden left fallow.

A quiet morning scene of a small town Main Street downtown, taken from the middle of the road. No cars are in the road. Morning sunlight touches the buildings on the left side, while the road and buildings on the right are in shadow. The morning sky is light blue.

A Main Street in a small town’s downtown, with trees lining both sides of the road. The picture is taken in the middle of the road. Morning sunlight shines from the left, hitting trees and a brick building on the right, while all else is in shadow. The sky is light blue.