Black Swan, begging for bread on our patio, this morning we awoke to find the shared network had collapsed, our technical processes fizzled-out due to flares erupting on the sun. Like the Blue-cheeked Fly-catchers tweeting one another in the Jacarandas, we scrambled to find nothing remained intact of the grand data cloud we once owned. So, dark icon of Cygnus in sync with your own internal clock, you remind me of how Orpheus the charmer was transformed, sent to his death by those unable to hear the divine music. May you plod on to find bliss with a Hunter Valley…