Reading in the evening. For years this was my habit. I stopped when my days became filled with inanity. In 2002 it’s possible that I read less than six books for the year. Now, some six months after fool’s progress has been vanquished I find myself three hundred pages into a book I started last night and four months into 2005 I’ve lost count on the number of books I’ve read since the first of the year. I know it’s more than twenty. Our winters can last more than one year, call them seasons or long dark nights, still spring will come in time. I am reading Marion Zimmer Bradley’s Mists of Avalon so you get a little heightened prose there at the end.