as our slight returns diminish

I wish I had something other than weather and work to talk about but I'm reeling from the last deadening punch of both and I feel like hell.

That last sentence should read 'we're reeling' because it seems like everyone I know is struggling through the same desperate minutes that I am: students, colleagues, O, friends, Marty Lapadakis.

We had a glimpse of the warmth of spring last week. Days in the sun and nights with the windows open, the sounds of Kadota filtering through the end of each night and the dawn of the next day.

Those brief moments have made the last few days so much harder. I was reminded of how nice it is to wear sandals and to stand on my porch with the sun on my bare chest. Or should that have read, bear chest. Now that the nights are just above freezing again I've turned back inside myself and resolved to just push on one moment to the next.

I've learned something during the long hours of cycling alone in this country. There are times when the wind blows you to a stop when you are 30 kilometers from home and you have no choice but to push forward. When you have no one to pull you or to call for help and hitch hiking is impossible, you have to find something inside that will turn the cranks over one more time.

I'm not sure I've found that something today. But I'm going to turn the cranks through another meeting, another lesson, another night alone, another kanji that I can't understand.