081413 #worm And so the night begins. Music comes from everywhere. Remember that, says Rangt; he disappears. The campground takes shape. Territories are staked out, literally. Sleeping arrangements begin to tease some of us with the possibilities of change. To others, the notion of sleep is a warm dog; a common homecoming, at last, again, to the one whose constant affection, after the callous days of our absence, we scarcely deserve.