There are always too many books on the desk. This autumn the pile is six high and leaning. At the bottom is Nan Shepherd's The Living Mountain, which I reread every year. Above it, a collection of letters, a field guide to mosses, and two novels I'm reading a chapter a night. The one I gave up on was a very good book. It just wasn't the right book for October. I'll try it again in spring.
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Note 2
