It is the most beautiful of spring days, Friday the 13th, a good fortune day–why not? The view from my study window is green. Maple green, rhododendron green, cedar green. Most of them two-tone this time of year, old growth against new. I’ve been reading about neuroscience and gratitude and Greece; I’ve been writing stories and very short plays. And translating a novel in three voices, so that the always multi-voiced translation further refracts. Green highlighter marks the passage that still isn’t right. The daylily buds are still green, not yet orange. The recycling truck shatters glass into its trailer, bottle-green unbottled.