Dear readers,
I write this the night before my annual hike to the summit of Mount Monadnock in New Hampshire, reputed to be the world’s most climbed mountain after Mount Fuji. There are a few posts I wish to write: one a set of reflections on my recent meeting with cousins on my biological father’s side (my first face-to-face contact with anyone in his line); and another on how, when adoption makes news, the automatic empathy extended to adoptive parents overwhelms all else, silencing adoptees and birthparents.
I was expecting to tackle at least one of these projects this weekend, but a convergence of circumstances favored something else: a trip to the top of my favorite mountain in New England, alone with my binoculars, my portable shortwave radio, my notebook, and my thoughts.
I am grateful to every one of you for your interest in my writing. I trust that the indolence of summer will give way as always to greater industry in the fall. You will hear from me again soon.