I came home from my travels yesterday morning and immediately got into bed and went to sleep, which is something I never do. And now I have a headache that won't quit. Ugh.

However, I did manage to accomplish all tasks, and today will be a bit slower--no long-distance driving and late nights, anyway. And yesterday, on the first day of March, I raked my gardens and discovered that my daffodils and tulips and garlic and chives are sprouting. Walking to class on Wednesday afternoon, I saw a yard full of snowdrops. Flowers that bloom in February! I need to plant some of those for next year.

Today will be wind and rain and wind and rain. I have some classwork to do, some editing to do. I'll slosh downtown to volunteer again with the guys at the library. I've got to practice singing Fleetwood Mac's "Landslide" for tomorrow's show. I've got to figure out something for dinner.

And now the wind is picking up, and rain is beginning to spatter on the panes. I am sitting in the dark living room, and from the window I can see enormous bare boughs, a clutch of roofs, and, beyond them, a steeple and its cross silhouetted gray against gray. Overhead, gulls sweep toward the invisible bay. Last night I dreamed I was in Harmony again. The night before I was up north but dreamed I was here. My subconscious is a muddle.