I’m back with a photo. I went looking for something, and here’s what I found: This man leaping. It’s by Andre Kertesz. Who I had never heard of. But then there’s lots and lots of photographers, of course. But you dig and dig and sometimes you find something. A photo worth spending time with. Why? Because you can look at it and look at it. Like you can read a book and reread the book. Or listen to a song and re-listen to the song. Dylan, Monk, Monroe, Bach, the moon, if the moon can be deemed a song. Which it can. I’ll take the moon’s song foremost every time. But this man leaping… Fingers like a woman’s, naked on a hilltop somewhere with heavy weather coming/going who can tell which. Leaping. Between greenery. A dervish. Knee aligned with elbow aligned with fingers floating. Look close and see his nose. This man leaping for no purpose whatsoever except that his soul must leap. And mine, too. That’s why I keep looking. He leaps his way, I mine. We save ourselves that way. Never come down. Just kind of permanently leap leap leap. And you, too, reader. Longing. Dreaming. Desiring. Hoping. Leaping.