From lows in the teens and biting winds, we have temporarily arrived at upper forties and a breeze. Today we will walk without scarves and wash the windows.
This weekend, to prepare for an Academy of American Poets seminar, I am reading a selection of Emily Dickinson poems, including one that begins:
There’s a certain Slant of light,Winter Afternoons –
That oppresses, like the Heft
Of Cathedral Tunes –
As they say, mood.
Other books on my nightstand include The Bell (Iris Murdoch; 1958), Daytripper (Fábio Moon and Gabriel Bá; 2010), and King Lear.
Nerdishly 