La parola da casa, Serena Piccoli

i'm in baton rouge again on a type of final visit basis. the weather is humid as is typical, but the landscape is lush and wonderful. this morning during a jog, i ran out under live oaks, water oaks, crape myrtles, magnolias, and many other pretty trees. that's probably the aspect of living here that i miss the most; chicago's trees are not near as magnificent as the trees in southern louisiana.

as a throwback i spent part of yesterday afternoon reading yeats' work--such beauty and such patriarchial bs.