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I can't believe this, but there are only 2 1/2 weeks left in the semester, followed by my favorite week of the school year, thesis defense week. I love the freedom that hangs in the air--it's also exam week, but at this point, all of my own essays and collections of poems should be turned in, and grades will be complete. The air will be fresh, and I can sit back and watch as my colleagues in year three celebrate their accomplishments, two hour parcels of reading and discussing, the windows in Lind flung open, students sprawled across the mall's lawn, the voice of poetry floating in the sun.

The trees are exhausted with blossoms. If all the bunches on our apple tree became fruit, the tree would sink to its knees.

I've started a little life list to remind me of all the things I want to do before I conk off. I've only just started it, and it's good for me to let it all percolate, let me decide exactly what it is that I want to do with this one wild and precious life.