This evening.

Taken near where I live last summer.

This evening is full of rain and mist, and for the first time in weeks I'm feeling better instead of worse. This is a big relief, because I was wondering where on earth this was going, this feeling worse and worse each day. So, this evening is rain, mist, feeling better, lamps on, grey sky, Trotwood asleep on the bookshelf (huddled, once again, next to Jane Austen: he's the only one in the house who likes Jane Austen), peanut butter on toast, and a glass of milk.

And, of course, reading, but not just for pleasure. I'm feeling studious, and I want to make a little dint in my challenges. So, I'm sitting with Ted Hughes, and I have a few Penguin Greats scattered around me, as well as St. Augustine's Confessions and Aristotle's Ethics. I'm not sure which I'll settle with, but out of no where, I'm unexpectedly driven and I intend to go with it.