Almost too good

There was no reason to expect that today would be anything but a good day, given that we seem to be in the midst of a stretch of perfect autumn weather, and given that I have good classes this term, but the day exceeded all reasonable expectations.

First, everyone in the morning composition class showed up and finished writing the mid-term essay on time with no grumbling. They are a delight. Then, the Environmental Action Group hosted its first presenter, our wonderful neighbor who regaled the assembled multitude (well, okay, twenty enthusiastic students) with tales of albatross-watching in the Northern Pacific and offered them an opportunity to try to reduce polymer pollution coming from our area. AND--he brought a life-sized model of a wandering albatross (nearly eleven feet from wingtip to wingtip). How cool is that?

 The afternoon Yeats class was even better than usual. We were discussing an earlyish play, and even without my prompting, the group took off on echoes of Greek tragedy and the Shakespearean double plot in our drama, followed by a raucous character analysis. By 1:45, I was exhausted, but it was a good exhaustion, the kind that comes from having given one's brain a good workout.

After a meeting with a representative of yet another active student group (which resulted in yet another project for the EAG, but hey, they've got energy), it was home to glorious sunshine, and the muhly grass that had in June had seemed to be dying in full, glorious bloom.

 Yes, that outrageous, cotton-candy pink is a native North American grass. (Excuse the blur: the wind was blowing, though the look of grass in wind is a main reason for growing the stuff in the first place.)

I couldn't get any to hold still for photographs, but the air was filled with skippers and with white and yellow butterflies. whirling through the blowing grasses only to pause to nectar on the not-quite-done asters.

Some days are almost too perfect.