the rest is rust and stardust
Pulling on a jacket and hood, I hugged my bag, heavy with books and notes and laptop, close to my chest and dashed out into the rain.
This past weekend may have been the peak of autumnal glory here, for in the space of one night--last night--the glory of fall foliage and crisp air has washed away in deep puddles and pools of cold rain.
I came to the coffee shop today to write, as I do most every Wednesday, but I've spent most of my time browsing the web. Wandering through blogs and online magazines, dreaming and sinking into the beauty of photographs and words as I sip on my 12 oz. latte. Its just the sort of day one wants to spend in a place like this--the smell of freshly ground espresso in a warm room as the rain spits on the windows outside.
Here are a few good things that have kept me riveted this morning:
This podcast. (I am on episode two and am eager to binge-listen to the rest).
This newly discovered magazine. (Sweetly recommended by an old college classmate).
This essay on discovering your music. (Because I wanted to shout out, "Oh this happened to me too!" And everything Meg writes is amazing).
And this recipe. (Which I made on Sunday and sent with Husband to work; he came home with a multiple requests for more. No surprise there, as these treats taste like sweet pockets of autumn).