For no particular reason, this morning I watched Joseph Cotten and Jennifer Jones in Portrait of Jennie. It was romantic in a way that few movies are any more. This is quite possibly because they leave sex out of it totally. You have a swirl of motion and emotion in the storm at the lighthouse, at the end of the movie.
I could wax moralistic, but I think I won’t. I don’t do it very well.
Meanwhile, I’m going to go through (time to work on my life list) the brand-new:
“Peterson Field Guide to Birds of North America (Peterson Field Guides(R))” (Roger Tory Peterson)
white pebble 