I remember seeing a curious little mouse in the cactus room of the Garfield Park conservatory while we chatted and painted. Not sure if you saw it too. I wonder what kind of life it is to be a little mouse in such a magical place.

Made me think of a poem by Stephen Crane that goes a bit like this:

In the desert
I saw a creature.
squatting upon the ground
held his heart in his hands,
And ate of it.
I said, “Is it good, friend?”
“It is bitter—bitter,” he answered;

“But I like it
“Because it is bitter,
“And because it is my heart.”