“Lock up your libraries if you like; but there is no gate, no lock, no bolt that you can set upon the freedom of my mind.” — Virginia Woolf
Mid-Autumn moon musings. On this night of the Chinese lunar festival, across the mountains, the moon shines down on my daughter. In Hong Kong lantern festivities of gold dragons wind through streets and light protests glow from the heights. Hong Kong dwellers form an illuminated human chain across Lion Rock.
Wherein a woman walks and muses. The shape of the woods sounds like birds. Writers abound. The stories cross oceans and wave. All this to try to stem the tide in her head of climate catastrophe and the rise of authoritarian regimes here there & everywhere. Keeping a world on self-destruct at bay.
