The Lake District at Night

After traveling over the Atlantic, immediately transfering to a train, walking around for three hours looking for an address on no sleep, two beautiful bouts of slumber, and a constant attempt to comprehend the language, I lie awake in my comfy B&B in an idylic part of the United Kingdom. It is 10:30pm on the eastern seaboard of the United States, plus five where I lie.  Jet lag can explain some mysterious things, but it cannot explain that moments ago, as I slept, I dreamt of an email from a friend, upon waking I received this email. This and the facts that the sunrise is creeping upon me as I type and that the evening resides in a perpetual twilight, leave me to wonder if I am not still asleep.  I can’t help but recall how twilight looks best reflected off the face of a lover.  

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