“The Gypsies divide the human race into two kinds. Into the People of Roofs and People of the Skies. They say that the People of the Roofs prepare for the night by bolting their doors, closing their windows and curtaining them against the night, whereas People of the Skies bed themselves on the ground beneath the sky and enjoy the moon and the stars. If they live in vans and tents, then they always keep door and window open or tent flaps lifted.” –from A Gypsy in New York by J. de Bairacli Levy

This week I’ve been having new and familiar revelations through either people or prose. I live with all my windows open for most of the year, I’m lucky my place in Queens has a lush garden. Long Island City is changing fast. There’s talk of my place selling (I rent) to make way for a small, luxury condo building. The change is inevitable, I feel it coming. And when it does, who will explain it to the birds, squirrels and fireflies? I’ve looked at google maps, the green is disappearing fast.

The garden where I have been known to drink tea for hours. Come by when you like. I’ve got a tasty Tieguanyin to share.