Last weekend we went to visit my dear friend Sarah and her husband, Joe. They live in a beautiful apartment overlooking the choppy water of Lake Champlain in Burlington, Vermont.
I wanted to sit down and write more about that weekend. About the local burgers and beer. About the mountain we hiked, and the sandwiches we ate while sitting on the bare rock face of its summit. About the boat ride, the swim, and the comfort of old, old friends.
But now that I’m sitting here, my fingers on my keyboard, my coffee cup rattling with ice, my schedule semi-cleared, all I can think of is how much I want to curl up on the couch and read a novel.* This summer has been all about producing words, maneuvering words, constructing sentences and watching them fly away. (Book, blog, freelance, day-job, press.) I’ve loved it. Every bit of it. But right now I’m tired. So instead of producing more words, I’d like to take a brief moment and simply soak them in.