Me, in a few dark places.

There was last night, doing the blogger meetup at Pete's Ale House:



I forget who took this picture, but we looked at it right then, and Palladian remarked on the Diana iconography.

Today, I was sitting in a nook, under a bust of Mozart, at the Caffe Reggio in the Village.



I say that I always avoided the Caffe Reggio, back in the old days when we lived near here. We loved the Caffe Dante. And later, walking back toward my temporary home, I stopped, alone, at the Caffe Dante, where we sat all the time, circa 1980.



No, there's no going back. And nothing can ever be the same.

There is no greater sorrow than to recall happiness in times of misery.