After a week of sun and temperatures in the seventies and eighties, we were reminded afresh of the fickle nature of spring on the prairie when we awoke to an inch of snow and sidewalks slippery enough to end our morning walk before it began. That’s all right. Tomorrow night I will lead a book discussion on W.G. Sebald’s The Emigrants, so I spent the time editing my notes and then shaping them into an entry I could post here.
Fickled afresh! All my arboreal ardor screeching to a halt.
Can I listen in to your Sebald discussion (on Mute)?
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