Daily Archive: May 11, 2004

Out in the fields, the evening sun is slowing moving aside a white swath of foggy cloud. For a moment, it’s as though it’s rising instead of setting. Clover and cowslip muster along the dirt road and the gravel lies in the triangular patterned ridges that tractors have left behind. A magpie startles and then swoops into flight, the double white flash of its wing markings slice the air. Off in the distance, fields of rape glow in golden patches. On one side a seemingly infinite carpet of green moves wavily over the fields all the way to Holmby church....

I’ve never been drunk in my life. I’ve never really seen the need. But I’m drunk now…on Spring. It’s intoxicating. You don’t even have to ingest anything*, it just fills you up with joy automatically. I’ve started going for a power walk each evening after I put the kids in bed and Karin is safely asleep. It’s so light out, even at 8:30 that it feels like late, late afternoon, even though the sun is streaking orange and pink behind the trees. One allé is lined with tall wild pear trees. Their branches are stretched and curled and covered with...