Today I consider attention and focus: how I find them, how I lose them. How it has gotten more difficult, in the past year, to sit still and stay with one thing for a length of time. How I have to choose my field of vision with deliberation or else lose the day altogether. Lose the day, and the life seems to rush in after, willing to be lost, willing to be spent unwisely. I work on retraining myself. I start with my books. Or, rather, start with the flowers and the leaves, with the plushness of the dogwood flowers and the unspooling of leaf fringe all over town. Start with the perfect, unbreakably cool sounds of a blue late-spring evening, all colors merging under a waxing moon. Wait until home to keep reading the new book.