Salt Too

Google will one day have more of my life in its vaults than I care to think about. Mainly, I don't really care, as long as I retain copyright. I have nothing to hide that I'd ever put on here, and they're welcome to mine my data, I guess. I'll mind it, and they might mine it. Mostly I trust them because they're smart West Coast guys who love to innovate. Who cares that Amazon sells socks and electronics and is Soooo Big? It had good Pacific grass roots.
I should say something more meaningful to go with my lovely pictures, but they're so fine they need not my words.

I just read Neil Gaiman's short novel Coraline. It's a fresh, unique story with old touches, old fears and motifs. I also read a blog account of a talk given by Phillip Pullman recently. It wasn't the transcript, but a blow-by-blow from an attentive listener. The name of the talk was "Poco a poco: the Fundamental Particles of Narrative." (See? I just switched over to Google in another window and checked on the title, a quick blog search. Would would let me do this if it weren't for Google?) I'd print the link to the blog post but someone just said that netiquette prohibits hot links on blogs. I thought in some quarter, anyway, hot links were a major point of blogs.
The pictures were taken at a favorite little cove along Ocean Drive in Newport, my original home town.