Good morning, Mr. Hewitt.

I cannot say I have ever seen the lupines so violent in their colour as this morning along the river path. Half-past seven, light just over the ridge, the air still cold enough to bite. If anyone is looking for an hour of quiet beauty, walk it before the light goes hard.

I shall be brief. I have read four novels this week and I am prepared to defend each of them at the next gathering. If anyone is in a reading slump and wishes a recommendation in any direction (terror, romance, history, sea-faring), the Widow holds court Tuesday evenings on the back porch. Tea is the strongest drink. The dog is the best company.