Piercing Memories , originally uploaded by gurdonark . The time for chill mornings leading to warm afternoons begins to fade, so that the morning itself is warm from the get-go. Spring storms still saunter through--as I type this, two counties to the west are under tornado warnings. I'm reading about Haydn. I like the way that a writer removed by generations can make such off-hand assessments, based on long-playing records, a few live symphonies heard, and the assessments of others. I make such assessments myself, from to time to, on even less authority. I thought today about a foolish hope I nurtured, long ago. The details are unimportant, all these decades later. I felt that brief pang that arises when one's own ancient history is uncovered--and then memory seals the crypt, and leaves the dead to bury the dead.