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My Writer's Journal

Change of Seasons

I'm reading Homer's ILIAD, which I haven't cracked since college. "Sing, goddess, the wrath of Achilles." What a bloodthirsty bunch those ancient Greeks were!

Summer ends in another week or so. It's dark when I wake up in the mornings, and I need a jacket. City lights come up earlier in the evenings, and it's too cool to sit out on the balcony for very long, watching the Rail Runner pull into the station. Change is in the air. Something new is about to happen. I'm waiting to see what that is.
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