Lilian Nattel Makes My Day

The older I get the less (certainly) I know and the less I also remember.  (Indeed, I am at work on a memoir now, but for this one, I've taken notes all along the way—proof, I tell myself. Evidence.)  But I do remember (I will swear on this) the first time I ever encountered Lilian Nattel's blog.  She had written about that northern lights phenomenon, aurora borealis.  She had posted (as she will) an extraordinary photograph.  I'd spent a few months in northern Alberta as a kid, fascinated by those night skies, and so I was enthralled by Lilian's post.  We're going to get each other, I thought.

And so we have.  We read with equal fervency.  We opine on the things we see.  We take our cameras out for walks.  We threaten to go ice skating together.  She's a Canadian and I'm a Pennsylvanian.  But there is much that we share.  When I read her novel The River Midnight, I knew we'd be friends for a long time.  When I follow her journey toward publication of her new book, Web of Angels, I feel as though I am preparing for a launch of a book of my own.

And so, Lilian, I am so very grateful to you for your beautiful and loving read of You Are My Only—for settling in with it so quickly, for sharing it with your daughter, for ushering in my yesterday with an early morning tease on Facebook.  The next time I cross the Canadian border, I'm strapping on a pair of skates, heating up my thermos of tea, and looking for you.

(The photograph above was taken at the Philadelphia Art Museum, this past Sunday.)