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My plans for catching up on posts and whatnot have been dashed.

So, for images of Bread Loaf, I direct you to this post, which has a sampling (though, with so many, it won't quite feel like a sampling, but remember this was a twelve day writing conference) and feel free to wander a bit to read my thoughts on the conference itself.

While there, it felt like nothing else in the world existed. All my memories were so very distant, my everyday life something in the past. It helps that I had no car and the mountain has no cell phone reception; there is a deep sense of seclusion, despite the many many writers milling about.

And now that I'm back, it feels as if Bread Loaf itself were a dream. I find myself forgetting and bracing myself for the mosquito attacks, then remembering our summer was too dry for that, not Vermont at all, and I won't be able to be stimulated in such a rigorous and boisterous fashion.

But I will return to the world of writing. Above is an image I took with Ryan's cell phone of the Mississippi at sunset. Ryan and I went out to dinner and he directed me to take the back way, winding up to these colors, fingers of blue and pink. A quiet song was playing on the radio and we held hands looking at the sky.

Tomorrow orientation begins for anyone teaching comp. I'm excited to be back on campus regularly, to start planning the school year, to dig into my independent study.

I have some catching up to do, but it looks like Bread Loaf won't be a part of field | work, and that makes sense, since I've branched off a little, to allow myself the comfort of obsessing in my world of literature, to keep this place everyday.