July 3rd, 1979

Sitting now at a kitchen table; late afternoon listening to birds chatter and a low cool breeze rustling. A dog barks and occasionally I hear a car parking, people crunching across the rocky drive toward the guest house. Robert is sleeping in the other room. Through the window the bushes and greenery; beyond the twilight blue of the harbor. We arrived late Friday night. I feel as though I have left the real world and entered some charmed space of my imagination.