Okay: a writer’s blog is generall meant to contain literary and writerly things. Pithy observations of life, profound commentary and insights. That kind of thing. Not your usual “Dear Diary” stuff. Still . . .

In response to requests for more pictures, I herewith post a pictologue, honeymentary, itinerfolio. Wedding photos are still some time in the future (we have to go meet with our intrepid photoman John Fitzpatrick in the Berkshires and go through the rolls) — but here are some quick photos of the various forms of wildlife encountered during our recent honeymoon.

(Click on any photo for enlarged view of actual, in-the-wild encounter!)

Baby in Surf

Dog in Surf

Bird in Surf

Fisherman in Surf

Wife in Surf

And finally, after we returned, we were joyously reunited with Ana’s faithful Secret Service agent and protector Ben
. . . and after much rejoicing and merriment, they both passed out.

Last week on the Go-Giver blog, I posted a note we got from Adrienne Schultz, our editor at Portfolio, publishers of The Go-Giver:

“So on my way to work today, I’m walking through the Times Square subway station—a busy spot, as you can imagine. There’s a man walking against traffic, nearly bumping into everyone as he passes by. I’m a bit annoyed, until I realize why he is so distracted: He is reading—is engrossed in—The Go-Giver! That just made my morning.

I wrote that post during our honeymoon, on a day that rained and rained, keeping us off the beach for the day. (I know, I said I didn’t write at all on my honeymoon. And I didn’t, honest—except for one little teeny weeny blog post.)

Later that day we hopped in our rental car and sought out a nearby Barnes & Noble to find some good beach reading.

I went to the “Inspiration and Motivation” shelf where The Go-Giver is displayed; there were four copies. A few minutes later, the clerk asked me to sign the copies there, so I went back to the shelf — and the four copies were now reduced to two. One evidently had been bought, and a man was standing there with the other in hand, leafing through it.

He told me he owned a company, and was thinking of buying this copy for his regional manager — whose name is Joe.

Synchronicity: a wink and a nod from the Absolute.

Back from a glorious honeymoon and a week of much-needed rest. (Wedding pictures coming soon!)

We spent the week on the roiling, surfy South Carolina coast, now under gentle rainfall, now through dramatic lightningstorms, and most often under sunny Hilton Head skies. As we gazed out our balcony one afternoon, freshly married, the ocean sky seemed to send us an editorial benediction with a wedding ring of its own:

Click on picture to get a full sense of the scene!

To fast my brain, I wrote absolutely nothing all week, and to nourish it, fed it four books:

• Arthur Miller’s masterpiece, Death of a Salesman (I can’t believe I never got around to reading this before!—what a magnificent piece of writing);
• Og Mandino’s classic, The Greatest Salesman in the World (Mandino and Miller make one intriguing set of bookends to the American Sales Experience; and yes, it’s true, I’ve never actually gotten around to reading most of the famous business parables, and decided it’s something I really ought to do);
• John Updike’s wildly and woolily satirical A Month of Sundays (Updike is not a flavor everyone enjoys; you have to be patient enough to traipse through sentences roughly the length of the Appalachian trail);
• and Dean Koontz’s recent addition to the magnificent Odd Thomas series, the graphic novel In Odd We Trust (I am a sucker for Odd Thomas).

It’s good to be back. So many gorgeous summer-and-fall days to drink in, so many books to write!

“August,” I wrote in this month’s eLetter. “Somnolent summer afternoons, the sour-sweet smell of fresh cut grass, backyard barbecues … and this year, a wedding. By the time you read my September eLetter, I’ll be a married Mann — and will be grateful to the month of August for the rest of my days.”

Yes, nuptial preparations have got us hopping here. And we are not alone. Someone else is hopping. Right outside my study window, in fact, in that sour-sweet fresh-cut grass.

I wonder if they are getting ready for a wedding too?