Tuesday, 9:00 AM. 16 degrees, wind W, brisk. The sky is blue and the channel has been again blown free of ice, which has ended up on the Madeline Island shore or out to sea. It is a nippy but nice morning, the fresh snow glinting crystalline in the rising sun.
I have started the task of cleaning the office/library, which has degraded into a disorganized mess. The clutter has to go, so I can begin drawing landscape plans for spring work. It is a nagging enterprise. I have always theorized that a clean desk is evidence of an uncreative mind, but even that rationalization has its physical limits.
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