The terrace is my weakness. We look out onto rolling Burgogne hills over pastures of sheep, horses and Charolais cattle grazing. I sit—then sit some more—with my coffee and list of tasks, organized by priority, unseen at my elbow.

I press the button for double espresso on my Delonghi Magnificas. Looking beyond this circle of hills, the quiet French countryside, I don’t believe that I have observed a time so troubled in America, in Eastern Europe, in the Middle East,  as I see now. This post probably should be titled  Спокойное место. The next would be, I suppose, смутное время? I’ll explain the terms in the next post.

Swallows gathering for migration 1 Sep 2024