I'm feeling glum this morning because I had to make the decision to pull out of this afternoon's reading in Kennebunk. But the weather reports are ominous for coastal York County--heavy rains, possible flash floods. I deeply dislike reneging on events I've promised to attend, but driving in terrible weather is one of my bêtes noires.

So instead of prepping for a reading this morning, I guess I'll be sitting in my study with the Iliad on my lap. Already the outer bands of Henri are beginning to quiver over the city. The air pressure feels very strange and ominous, almost as if the sky is pressing my eyelids shut. A thick haze blinkers the neighborhood, and little bursts of drizzle and breeze pock the leaves and sidewalks. It's amazing to me how huge a hurricane is. Portland is hundreds of miles from the epicenter, yet these are Henri's fingers tangling our hair.