Chilly wind howled again this morning. On the way to the park I met park regulars departing in the gloom. The floor was dry but not the staircase where scatter pools of water remained. I have a fight with the blowing wind when laying down the plastic sheet on the stair, and I felt unrest by the non-stop flipping noise produced by the thin plastic. I took out the brush to measure the perspective of the staircase extending to the far end of the viewing platform, where a few park regulars were stretching their bodies without bothering my eyesight. Looking at the vast view stretching in front, I found that the farther the distance, the ampler the view become, and I realized how I had been subconsciously embraced within the boundaries of the previous segmental views, while I forgot to include myself as part of the environment. The deep receding perspective took me almost the whole morning to measure for the consideration of melding the peripherals to finalize the head to tail segments of the 360-degree panorama. Though the bell of the tennis court did not ring, I sensed it was nearly time to leave, so I painted a lay of washy paints as a guide for the next morning before packing up.