Life is weather.
Life is meals.
Lunches on a blue checked cloth on which salt has spilled.
The smell of tobacco.
Brie, yellow apples, wood-handled knives.

James Salter, in one of my all-time favorite books, Light Years.

I met James Salter in Portland in July of 2004, and I asked him why he didn’t write another book on marriage.  Referring to Light Years, he said, “Doesn’t this say it all?”

It is one of my favorite books.  I’ve read it three times.  What he says he says brilliantly and poetically.  But I believe there’s more to say.