Lookin' good out there...

So delicious to dive into bed last night, knowing I had not finished Shirley Hazzard's "The Transit of Venus," and had some more pleasurable reading ahead. She pulled off an interesting bit with the ending, which reminded me of her old friend Elizabeth Bowen. Hazzard's writing has a kinship with Bowen's, in some ways. Distinctive use of language, sometimes a challenge to grasp; her characters are maybe a bit easier to decipher than Bowen's.
Benefit auction dinner this evening for Washington Water Trails Association. Good food, flowing champagne, reconnected with old friends from years past when we all had boys who played soccer together. We all seem to have kayaks, so maybe we'll resume seeing one another.
Off to get started on one of Hazzard's short story collections, Cliffs of Fall. I like its title very much; it comes from a Gerald Manley Hopkins poem, [No Worst, There Is None. Pitched Past Pitch of Grief] which contains these amazing lines:
O the mind, mind has mountains; cliffs of fall
Frightful, sheer, no-man-fathomed. Hold them cheap
May who ne'er hung there. Nor does long our small
Durance deal with that steep or deep. Here! creep,
Wretch, under a comfort serves in a whirlwind; all
Life does end and each day dies with sleep.