Mental Escapes

The brutality of late July-early August always surprises me… in the way that a narcissistic person surprises you when they do something outlandishly selfish. We of more even temper assume unawares that surely they won’t stoop this low (or temperatures soar this infernally high) this time, surely. Yet it is this way every year in the American mid-South. Thus, the selection of BeauFort’s Cape Wrath, to transport me to a wind-whipped Northern beach on a cool day with a low cloud ceiling, temporarily obscuring the impending return to the academic year on Monday and the accompanying terrors and tedium.