Last night, the television sat mute.  I curled up with steaming Earl Grey and handcrafted cookies, reading until my eyes drooped closed.

I’ve joined a book club.  We’re reading Pilgrim at Tinker Creek.  The first few pages brought to mind ersatz Thoreau, but as I ventured a little further, I realized that Dillard isn’t copying Walden, but using the Walden experience to make it her own. Her writing is both lush and raw – describing the beautiful and the horrific.