I’m out and about with the hound in the bright crispness of an almost December morning. After a week or so where the temperatures suddenly decided to play at summer heat, the seasonal chill in the air is welcome.
All in Home Schooling
I’m out and about with the hound in the bright crispness of an almost December morning. After a week or so where the temperatures suddenly decided to play at summer heat, the seasonal chill in the air is welcome.
We were with the waves yesterday afternoon. The Labour Day sun blazed down on a beach both packed and raucous.
The last week in May and first week in June are the prettiest time of year in Los Angeles. The jacaranda trees are in bloom and life just seems to sing.
I’m teaching Virgil again. It‘s hard to believe that it’s been ten years since I last taught this greatest of poets. Although the school room has turned into a kitchen table and the student is my fifteen year old son rather than a group of girls from London,
I was driving yesterday. Through the pink evening of an unfolding Los Angeles sunset. Driving at times like these, the magical dimension of the place appears.
The light has been extraordinary this past week in our little quarter of Los Angeles. A pale lavender luminescence that has cast a dream like glow through us all.