Last night I walked down to Lake Hebron and sat on the dock to look at the sunset--gaudy pinks, oranges, purples reflected in the almost motionless water; the circle of trees, some already silhouettes, some still visible in their bright finery.

And then I walked back to my digs and read The Rime of the Ancient Mariner before falling asleep for more or less the entire night--a big success, given my typical sleeping troubles.

So here I am now, awake, listening to the log trucks rumble past; here I am, tucked into a small bedroom with three open windows, for it is shockingly warm in the north country. In half an hour I'll walk down the road for coffee and yogurt, then trudge back to my classroom and start moving furniture, and then the kids will arrive and the day will unroll as it will.