Yon nwit a lakay mwen, nan Mon Bouton

This link At dusk gives you a brief tour of the, ah, accommodations, up on Mon Bouton.

So far away now...and yet, so immediate!  I can hear the crickets, cicadas..and the toad.  By 7 p.m. most everyone and everything has quieted down before these creatures bleat in.

I escape guiltily into paperbacks schlepped from home - books that take me to medieval Jerusalem, to Depression-era USA, to pre-Civil Rights Deep South.  I read short stories, depicting lives of elderly women of privilege back in my home town, university town, at Stanford.

I think I am probably the only one within a radius of at least 30 miles who is reading, who is burning candles to read.

Surely, everyone else is singing, humming or going to sleep.

When I awake, this will be there for me.