Setting days. That's what my grandmother called them. Can't say you've done much and yet the day was full. Like noticing how the shadow of a tree resting upon the side of a house bends as it lays down on the roof. Or watching a raven call out to others that the seed has been served. Is it the same raven each day? A different raven? I cannot tell them apart. Would that I were gifted to notice this raven as distinct from others. I cannot and yet he or she is. I need to practice. Maybe that's what setting days are all about. Noticing what you can and noticing what you can't. But setting equals noticing. I guess that, in the end, is what makes the day full. Yes grandma, it is sweet.