March 19, 2017

The time change that everybody hates gives me an extra hour of morning darkness, in which I do my best work. Just now blue-gray winter light comes to my study window.

S has resigned from Cantaria. Less chaos than one expected, our Board having, this time for the first time, provided.

I am not quite home. Something of me is left amid the canalli, or perhaps streams dark and uncertain in the air between here and there. Maybe the sight of my students will bring me home.