Well,
My Springtime In The First World seems to be segueing into Summertime In The First World, which is not necessarily a bad thing; just unexpected. It's my first Canadian summer in ten years, and the utter familiarity of Peterborough has allowed much time for writing and reflection. Working while the afternoon breezes swoop into the trees from sunny skies makes it easy, and jaunts across Ontario are keeping things interesting. And aside from the journo assignments, my first serious piece of fiction is coming together nicely.

May this be the adagio before fortissimo.
Rock steady,
Dave.

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