I have become so used to living in Zagreb that I occasionally miss the blast of canon at noon. And it is impossible to miss if you are new to the city. Coming from a tower in the upper town that faces the lower town, the blast is as loud as loud can be. If I am engaged in something, and especially if I am writing, it passes me by. My brain treats it as irrelevant background noise. Every now and then, I am surprised that I have missed the noon entirely. But I do not want to miss it today, for I am returning to Motovun tomorrow. I will surely miss the old cannon over there. It is one of the hallmarks of the historical center of the Croatian capital. Alas, it seems that I am getting sentimental about the city of my birth. And missing the cannon, of all things! Only a few years ago, that would strike me as nigh impossible. Pure fiction, no less.