(even though I'm constantly being accused of knowing all there is to know in theory, but not in practice)
that in time, even the most uncommunicative types will long as much, or even more, for someone to confide in.
Peter and I have both spent our contemplative years in the Annex.
We often discuss the future, the past and the present, but as I've already told you, I miss the real thing, and yet I know it exists!
Is it because I haven't been outdoors for so long that I've become so smitten with nature?
I remember a time when a magnificent blue sky, chirping birds, moonlight and budding blossoms wouldn't have captivated me.
Things have changed since I came here. One night during the Pentecost holiday, for instance, when it was so hot,
I struggled to keep my eyes open until eleven-thirty so I could get a good look at the moon, all on my own for once.
Alas, my sacrifice was in vain, since there was too much glare and I couldn't risk opening a window.
Another time, several months ago, I happened to be upstairs one night when the window was open.
I didn't go back down until it had to be closed again.
The dark, rainy evening, the wind, the racing clouds, had me spellbound;
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