15 January

Three degrees, Library tour

by Jon Katz

A real winter

It seems to be the real thing this winter. Lots of snow, bitter cold – it’s 3 degrees right now – and the donkeys are going into the barn most nights to keep them dry and their hooves warm. Their coat is getting thicker. Cold for the foreseeable future. Library tour starts next week, Sunday the 23 of January in Granville, N.Y., at the Pember Library. Monday the 24th, an evening talk at the Cobleskill Library, Cobleskill, N.Y. Tuesday, an evening talk in Salisbury, Conn. Wednesday, the Free Library of Northampton, Richboro, Pa., an evening talk. Thursday the 27th, the Rochambeau Branch of the Providence Public Library, 7 p.m. (my hometown library). Friday, 2 p.m. talk at the Osterville Library, Osterville, Mass. Friday evening, 7 p.m., the Scituate Library, Scituate, Mass. Saturday afternoon, 2 p.m., Edgartown Library, Martha’s Vineyard. Check your libraries for the precise time, as they are subject to change.

This tour is in support of our libraries, beset by budget cutters and short-sighted citizens. I will talk about libraries, “Rose In A Storm,” my first novel in ten years, and my next book, “Going Home: Finding Peace When Animals Die.” But libraries are the point. If we can save banks, we can save libraries, one of the greatest triumps of the American experience. I’m looking forward to the tour. Maria is coming along with me.

15 January

Pictures from an exhibition/1

by Jon Katz
Mass MOCA

Snowing again, cold and icy. We put the donkeys in the barn. Earlier today, we drove to North Adams, Mass., to see Mass MOCA, the striking contemporary art museum house in a giant and beautiful mill, a monument to the time when Americans made things as well as bought them. I took a series of photos of Maria – some with her mother – as we wound threw the vast and surprising spaces and works. A photographer’s dream.

15 January

In The Grace Of The World

by Jon Katz
Grace Of The World

“When despair for the world grows in me

and I wake in the night at the least sound

in fear of what my life and my children’s lives may be,

I go and lie down where the wood drake

rests inĀ  his beauty on he water, and the great heron feeds

I come into the peace of wild things

who do not tax their lives with forethought

of grief. I come into the presence of still water.

And I feel above me the day-blind stars

waiting with their light. For a time

I rest in the grace of the world, and am free.”

Wendell Berry, The Peace Of Wild Things

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