4 January 2010

Deeply cold by the lake, yet I found Mitzy sleeping in a pile of oak leaves. Head clearing. Strange, still unable even to murmur that psalter without coughing. Hour-long sleep in the afternoon, dozing off while listening to an Orthodox priest talk about the Incarnation. It must be the weeks of sleepless nights, for the most part, catching up. Fourth reading: Bernard of Clairvaux, from his Sermons on the Song of Songs. "If you are wise you will show yourself a reservoir . . . ."