I set out at 5:45 this morning on my daily walk, expecting to spend the time crafting a reply to Jacob T. Levy. As I crossed the street in front of my building, I looked up at a ledge where a murder of crows [as I have been taught to say] had gathered. My foot caught the curb and I went sprawling, banging my elbow, knee, and hip and scraping the fingers of my right hand. No major damage, but enough blood to dissuade me from continuing my walk. After I had bandaged myself up with the aid of Susie, I went across the street to Starbuck's and had a chocolate croissant. Past experience suggests that it will all hurt for about a week or more, since old folks like me heal slowly.