The sobering calculation of time in the last post started a downward spiral in confidence.To base the structure of a book on a stack of expensive hand-made paper, and to expect the content to follow seems more and more absurd. I wiled away the summer fishing and writing poetry, instead of collecting specimens and recording observations. Toward the end of September, with little confidence in my grand scheme, I hit the road for the Oak Knoll Book Fest in Delaware: but I did have a little book of river poems called Report From Pool Four. I must confess that composing and printing poetry, something I hadn’t done in more than thirty years, was a pleasure.
Back home I realize that I have more than enough river material to face the coming winter. I am refreshed–renewed in my resolve to move forward with the grand scheme–due mostly to spending time with bookish friends. I will also be printing Bicycle Diaries this winter. Still time for a few more outings in the boat, I hope, before putting it away for the season.
