Mid-day coffee, garden path northeast of Phoenix
Sun is a small white speck on the liquid’s curving edge
Halfway down the paper cup. In the depths
The trees are turning, turning on the caramel sky
That has already consumed half the day.
.
Wakefulness branches out across the surface
Of consciousness.Inside the hotel, thousands
Of my colleagues are putting a lid on such thoughts
To walk quickly to the next meeting. I will leave
It all uncovered, walk more slowly than I need,
Carry the sky inside like an open notepad.
Translations from the English 
Beautiful. I have this habit of observing things and drawing stories and conclusions related to my life out of them. Makes me feel peaceful and also it feels like things are ever connected, that there is a place for what I feel in the chaotic world.
There is indeed a place, and we’re most of the time there already, I think.
It sounds like you got more out of the conference than your colleagues did, and at the coffee shop.
Thanks Harry! I may have gotten more from literally outside the conference than some — there were many talented and dedicated investigative reporters and editors who brought a lot to, and took a lot from, that week. Many were more sane than me when it came to mid-day hot coffee in a 116 degree cactus garden…but to me it was worth exploring as well…
I’ll assume it was dry heat.
Yes! I spent a decade in South Carolina and know that other heat all too well. It was a wonder to walk a part of the planet where you could still go outside with temps that high.
Wonderful!
Great reflection — in both senses of the word.