This was the scene yesterday morning, 7 a.m., 10 below zero, looking out at Fort Gorges in Casco Bay. I had never seen sea smoke before, so Tom drove us over to the Eastern Prom, where we used to live, so that we could experience it. Sea smoke is vapor that forms over the ocean in extreme cold, and what surprised me is how lively it was, strands coiling and dancing over the sluggish water. Behind these ghosts, the old 1812-era fort loomed like a dark memory.

This morning the temperature has risen to a balmy 14 above zero, and by tomorrow we're supposed to have highs in the low 40s. Our acquaintance with Siberia is over.

Yesterday's class was busy and talkative and engaged, so I think that's a good sign. This morning I'll be back at it: more writing, and then a revision session all afternoon, and then T wants to go out for Sicilian pizza, which sounds like a fine idea to me.

Tomorrow I'll slide back into the editing pond.