Staggered dinnertimes.

Didn't paint at all today, but it was another enchanted afternoon and evening on the roof deck. Brian and Neil segregated the tomato sprouts in individual pots. After sunset, the lights in the buildings surrounding us came on. The aroma of food cooking on someone's stove wafted on the breeze, and then the scent of someone's cologne. We heard snatches of disembodied conversations coming from the driveway. Now I'm still dreaming not only of a small bedroom on the roof deck, but also of an iron bridge leading from the south end of the deck to the small parapet on the front corner of the yellow tower.