The sun sets over the Pacific and the sky is a radiant wash of pale lime going down to a warm grey. The sea itself is a flat and shiny mirror and other than a pair red tail hawks nearby, I am the only set of eyeballs on Earth with this particular view. This is an Antarctican feeling -- that of, hey I am the only person in the world to have stood on this spot...ever.
We have the same sort of moments in the temperate world, we are just less likely to observe and celebrate them. When the sun sets for good, I will head out to Julie and Steve's house on Lone Mountain to talk to their monthly reading group. The surge in such groups over the past decade or so is truly amazing. Just when the last pundit tells us books are so 20th century, we find new ways to enjoy the form. Is there anything more pleasant to discuss with friends than a book?  I just stayed up all night to read Cormac McCarthy's The Road. Now when I see someone with this book, I envy them. I wish I, too, were just beginning the book. It can be read again, but never again for the first time. (Check out Book Ninja, a Canadian literary Web site. As mentioned in the NY Times Book Review this week, the site hosted a cover spoof contest. The new cover for The Road won. I won't spoil it -- hilarious.) http://www.bookninja.com/?p=4635 Well, the sky is now so many shades of violet and I want to get outside into it, not look at through this moderately soiled window.