One day in Maine, I walked to the edge of the bluff upon which sat the house where we were staying.  Straight ahead was the sea.  Also straight ahead and slightly to the left was a tall tree about 30 feet away or so.  Just below my eye level was a hole in that tree.  And in that hole a raccoon was sleeping.  After discovering this, I took it upon myself to check on this raccoon every chance I got.  Sometimes all I saw was a patch of fur in the hole.  Another time I spotted the raccoon about to enter the hole.  It paused, looking out at me with a guilty expression, as if it had been caught red-handed.  I gradually realized that it was not going to crawl into its hole with me staring at it, and so I discreetly moved away.  The final time I saw that raccoon, it was lying on its back in the hole, its head sticking out and tossed back like that of an old man dozing in an overstuffed armchair. Its mouth slightly agape, I could almost hear it softly snoring from where I stood.  Not a bad life, I thought.

It’s forever a balance, the hours we stare at pixelated images and the hours we don’t.  I’m always on the run from this monitor, even as I sit in front of it.  And I guess this song keeps meaning different things to me, since this is the second time it’s come up here.

I can’t be held responsible for the things I say
For I am just a vessel in vain
And I can’t be held responsible for the things I see
For I am just a vessel in vain

Such free reign
For a vessel in vain