Surprisingly, I took a while to get to sleep, but when I did I slept well and with a few interruptions, right until eleven in the morning.
Once I was finally out of bed, and it was chilly in the cabin this morning in the rain, I prepared for going to Millville and brought my window boxes from Mike and Carol to the greenhouse. 
They had dried somewhat from the muck I’d raked from the swamp so they were a bit lighter. I also set up a couple of buckets to start their drying too, after I filled them with more muck. I clipped the trail a bit, since I will be carrying muck for the garden.
Interestingly, the salamander I thought I’d been responsible for killing—since I found its body the next day after I’d scraped muck with my boot and scared him 
out into the open—may not be my fault. I found the parts to three salamanders today, for I’d not bothered to scrape out the bodies before. The looked fake and rubberish, but there were three missing their heads. Someone with a taste for salamander heads must have eaten them, although I can’t imagine why they didn’t eat the bodies as well. It’s nice to know it is a natural phenomenon of some kind and not my interference.
I also did some work in the greenhouse to prepare it for growing vegetables. Soon there should be some tasty food growing here. I dug a bit on the pond too, but it didn’t really hold my interest.
Before I left the land I emptied the car of pallets and since the road has been graded somewhat it was easier to drive.
It had occurred to me that Kim’s van was not really legal to drive until Monday’s inspection, so I told her that and we decided to put off getting my books. I spent some time with Miriam and Dennis went to get Erin in Nackawic. When he returned it was late and he was a bit cranky anyway, so it was time to leave. I wonder if I also get in moods where I am inclined to argue everything someone says. Perhaps we are all subject to that.
I came back while there was still just enough light to negotiate the trail and started a fire when I arrived to warm the cabin for the night. I’m glad to be back here.
Eileen and I talked about our relationship, which is difficult to talk about without mentioning Colleen. I used the term triumvirate a few times, since we really developed our relationship as a group. We went through a few seminal moments and Eileen gave me a beautiful compliment. She talked about the growing trust between us and how for her this provided evidence that there were people out there who would not take advantage of her and loved her for herself, and also that it enabled the laying down of new memories which overwrote the old ones. We come to our relationship at what might be an important time for all of us. Eileen and I talked about that. In her case, it was a time of wondering about trust, and for me, just coming out of a long relationship and not feeling that great about important I am to other people, this relationship comes at a good time as well. I’m not sure about Colleen. Perhaps for her, reaching out to the world that is beyond her friendship group and finding this strange relationship, Eileen and I satisfy something in her as well.
The quiet in the cabin on a still night is hard to describe. Sometimes, such as in the rain or wind, there are a few noises. When I have a fire, it roars and crackles through the stillness. Tonight the fire is dying and there is no wind. It is so still that every movement I make is accompanied by a noise I would not usually notice. I can hear my feet against the rug, the keyboard rattling and the movement of my shirt against my neck when I turn my head. If I were in the trees there would be the small sounds of creatures practicing their trade in the darkness, but inside, with the cabin well insulated, it is a vacuum of sound, a black hole that has lost its appetite for light and has gone after a slowly moving wave.
