
A few more books to shelve.

Seen at the Chicago Botanic Garden.
More than six years ago, before the world tilted on its axis, I had found the adult equivalent of concert band — a group that meets twice weekly, includes a sectional, and chooses music that is fun but not too challenging. For so many reasons, I was unable to return until now, so I am currently “test-driving” the program, using the shorter summer session to see if I’d like to make a long-term commitment. So far, so good.
The Botanic Garden is not far from where we practice, so on one of the last cool days in the forecast, I grabbed an overpriced coffee and walked a couple of miles. Just lovely.
Currently reading: Septology (Jon Fosse; 2019-2021) with a dear friend; Moby-Dick (Herman Melville; 1851), The New York Trilogy (Paul Auster; 1985-86), and An Episode in the Life of a Landscape Painter (César Aira; 2000) for Roundtable courses; The Iliad (Homer, translated by by Emily Wilson; 2023) for a seminar; and Hole in the Sky (Daniel H. Wilson; 2025).

The above are a few gifts to self.
Since my last post, I have celebrated a birthday, performed in the spring recital, and finished a terrific course on Dickinson, Rilke, and Celan given by Ulrich Baer at Roundtable. I have also seen two plays: Out Here at the Court and An Enemy of the People at Timeline. (Enemy is can’t-miss theater.)
This is also the season of mowing, trimming, readying the raised beds (and adding a few), and sowing the wildflower seeds.

No filters or edits applied — just so vibrant! Tulips of all sorts and hues are the main attraction at the Chicago Botanic Garden right now.
Oh, and the corpse flower.






The above are images I captured yesterday at the member preview of “Gertrude Abercrombie: The Whole World Is a Mystery.”