This morning a hummingbird hovered outside the window directly in front of me for more than ten seconds. I got to see the tiny bits of green mixed in with its grey and brown. I got to see just how fast its wings vibrate. How much slower the tail feathers move. How long and thin its beak. How tiny it is: smaller than the palm of my hand.
Everything here in San Miguel continues good and well. We continue to eat way too many pastries, particularly the ones with pecans. We continue to write many, many words. I think Scott’s book is his best YA yet. And I remain happy with my own.
I shall be sad to leave.