I thought I would be writing this about how it feels to hold Tell the Turning in my own hands at last.

I’ve had the book four days now, and true to my typical processing, I haven’t yet made full sense of how I feel. So I won’t write about that just yet.

D’Artagnan knows how he feels. He is sleepy and gentle, and (in the sweetest possible way) couldn’t give a fig about my accomplishments.

I’m not sure whether Pacific Ninebarks have feelings I would recognize, but they were willing to pose for a portrait yesterday morning. It was quite early, not entirely light, and while they look fabulous, my own eye was apparently a little blurry:

I can tell you how I feel about this illustration, because I’ve beheld it many times in the past couple of months. I love it. I love the way it’s aligned with the poem. I love the way it recalls to me the scent of the street I was walking when I composed Sunrise Light in the Pepper Tree. No pepper trees were available for comment:

Something else I can tell you: the Bored Wolves report that Tell the Turning is selling rather quickly. We don’t have plans laid yet for a second printing, so if you don’t have a copy and would like one (or perhaps know someone you’d like to gift it to), now may be the right time to order.

You can do that here, direct from the publisher, or you can put in a call to Grolier Poetry Bookshop in Cambridge, Massachusetts, or the Cloud & Leaf in Manzanita, Oregon.

Oh, there’s a feeling: gratitude. Wow. Thank you, friends.