Yesterday I released a new iPhone app into the App Store. It’s a local guide to Los Altos, California, the town where I live, and a bit more: with a few simple discussion and sharing features, Townie is an app for community.

This morning I was walking downtown to my favorite local wifi work spot. As I rounded the corner from my side street to the main road downtown, I was surprised to find a folded bundle of cash lying on the sidewalk with the number “50” peeking from the corner of one of the bills. “Someone’s going to miss that,” I thought as I picked up the folded bills and counted three twenties, a fifty, and a one dollar bill.

Sometimes I miss midwestern autumns and winters. Here's a poem for November by Robert Frost.

There’s a thread you follow. It goes among
things that change. But it doesn’t change.
People wonder about what you are pursuing.
You have to explain about the thread.
But it is hard for others to see.
While you hold it you can’t get lost.
Tragedies happen; people get hurt
or die; and you suffer and get old.
Nothing you do can stop time’s unfolding.
You don’t ever let go of the thread.
—William Stafford