Emailing begins to dominate my daily existence — planning the logistics of future movement — 13 plane flights in three weeks or so. I am tired in some ways that must be reflecting the arrival not of spring, but of SUMMER to Colorado. Here, in Lapland, there is something of spring in the Light, but nowhere is there grass to crash onto and stare into the platinum sky glaring with the blue Arctic sun. And besides, the intensity of the ultra-violet radiation of the Arctic is of a kind which drills small, hypodermic-sized holes through my cranium immediately around the edges of the eye-socket of my right eye, where subsequently blue-white-hot Light leaks in or is even injected to burn directly the optic nerve, no mediation through the crystal lens, but direct electromagnetic radiation of raw receptors.