I sit surrounded by books, which is not outside but is relaxing & contemplative & comforting. Ever think about how many ideas are just sitting here, closed up in books? If we were to open all of them & let the ideas out, they would float out into the air & maybe fight with each other or become friends or change their minds about things or decide to close themselves back up & sit on the shelf. I am sitting in the section housing birds, which is almost like being outside & hearing them singing all around you. If we opened them, do you think they would sing bird songs or big words like aythya valisineria & psittacula krameri & contupus pertinax? I would like to think they sang. I am also sitting in the section labelled “nature,” which is almost like the real thing but not quite. Here the only wood is cut & built & varnished & the only sky is over the wall in the children’s section–robin’s egg blue–&the only grass the green nubby carpet that is even less realistic than astroturf. Almost as good but not quite.