That was the view from where I sat this morning, having a brie and apple omelet in a neighborhood diner as I read on my Kindle. I was doing research for an editing project, getting familiar with a book that my author says informed how she wrote her manuscript. At a certain point I looked up and noticed the mix of colors, the reds and deep yellow, the man's purple shirt, the electric blue shopping bag, the greens and pinks of the chalk on the black board. It seemed such a vibrant yet harmonious mix, and it led me to thinking again how fortunate I am that I can work like this, in a fifties-style diner on a Tuesday morning, the street outside almost empty now because the Columbia students have left for the summer, and the beat of the neighborhood is winding down. As I sat there, time slowed. I felt a simple peace.