In my red and white metallic bubble, I'm wandering. My silent fight against ice breaking up started. I'm loosing everyday a little bit more of my freedom... let's say, from land. But I'm getting another one. Not a spiritual one. No mysticism: I've been isolated on the East Coast, but for only 4 weeks. I cannot remake my own world in such a short time. At least I broke myself of using hours and minutes. What a privilege! It is not necessary to follow the sun. He also lost his sleep. My days are not longer, but they last more. My diurnal cycle got 3 hours more. To be "Vagabond" may also means to be able to stop clock's tick-tock. Eating slowly, forgetting oneself reading or working... and sometimes hurrying up to do nothing. +0.8°C at the end of my 12th book. (transl. EB)