In the pink

Finally managed to line up a climbing partner this week; it's been cancellations right and left, and I needed to get vertical. Different indoor joint, lots of routes created by dear offspring; nothing like spending a couple of hours figuring them out and feeling pleasantly worked over.
Delving into a book of essays by Ursula Le Guin; a very harmonious chord sounded in one of her personal pieces, in which she described her high school time spent in a nearby library. She was reading for a French class, and wrote that only a fifteen-year-old can truly appreciate Charles Baudelaire's poems, "The Flowers of Evil." (Les Fleurs du Mal) I remember finding this book in the big county library in the city near my little town, and finding I could read and think in another language. Interesting shared experience, up to a point. She cried over the poems, I felt excited by something different than my small potato high school life. I'm appreciating her non-fiction work a good deal.