CLUSTER FLIES all over the place–indoors, outdoors. Buzz, buzz against the window in the study, so I opened it to let them out. Still buzz, buzz, so I guess they didn’t really want to get out. Outdoors it’s buzz, buzz up against the house. They’re crawling all over the outside of the house too, hundreds of them, plus a few wasps. Up in a beech-birch grove in my woods I found some porcupine work around the base of a huge beech. The porcupine had almost girdled it. The scar is maplike with what looks like swishes of teeth marks. Actually it looks quite artistic. A chipmunk is rustling in the leaves nearby. Crickets are chirping in the background. Living in Vermont would be fine if I would let it be. It’s a clear fall day with warm sun and the smell of pine in the air. I am surrounded by pleasures, but I am twisted inside by something that drives me every which way up blind alleys. Anger, anxiety, unrest. Maybe if I spent more time with things and less with people, I’d be OK. On my way home I saw some CLOSED GENTIANS on Spear Memorial Highway.