The perfect book to finish up just as the giant star goat takes a big bite out of the sun . . . This important and highly acclaimed book has been on my To-Be-Read list more or less since it came out. So when I found a copy (left by Nancy, my co-grandmother) sitting in front of me down at Justin and Claui's, I picked it up and started in while Josie napped.
I was hooked right away by the gorgeous prose and by the engaging characters-- Marie-Laure, the blind French girl, and Werner, the German orphan -- both infinitely resourceful and both caught up in the maelstrom of World War II.
As their paths move toward convergence during the siege of St. Malo, every word, every action, seems to glow with preternatural clarity. I found myself trying to slow down and appreciate but still reading and reading to find out what happened. And when I reached the last page, having satisfied my curiosity, I ordered the book on Audible so that I will be able to savor every scene and pay closer attention to the glorious writing. And now I'll go looking for another of Doerr's books -- any suggestions?
We viewed the eclipse from the end of our porch. (Josie slept through it.) It wasn't total -- 90 something percent -- and I was surprised at how light it still was when only a slender crescent of the sun remained uncovered. It was a somewhat eerie light -- not like dusk -- and the temperature dropped appreciably. Ominous. No birds sang but crickets chirred and both dogs spoke, saying in unison Trump must go! (Some of the above is Fake News.)
We had glasses, of course, but we had fun trying to see the progress without looking up. A steamer insert yielded some crescents.
But my favorites were the 'wild' captures, on the stepping stones under the Kousa dogwood.
