On a pinecone. Bad picture, but that's all right -- it's a despairing kind of day anyway...breezy, chilly... sunny, but washed out or yellowish or something, an autumn sunlight that means September is here and you're back to the meaninglessness and helplessness and fear and waste of another bleak, miserable nine-month stretch, the yellow bus to kiddie jail. Boo hiss to all that. Or woo hoo to growing up and escaping from some things.