In an attempt to make this post slightly less content-free, here's something I cobbled together from the magnetic poetry set on our cabinet (overflow from our fridge) earlier today while eating snacks-in-lieu-of-lunch:
Oh gentle dream, adore the look
Which, nearing thee, haunts
And that gaze, find wild if not cherish'd
Somehow, that seems premonitory (the adjective form of "premonition"; a useful word, if odd-sounding to American ears -- I picked it up from Bill Bryson today) of my upcoming trip. I'm not sure whether this is because my subconscious is inserting the trail into everything that I do, or because my conscious is interpreting it in everything I see.
So much to write. So much to write. In the meantime, big gear expedition tomorrow with kadyg and roaminrob.