#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Rain in the meadow, and all these exquisite delicate drying up things to behold, especially, the spring nests now visible in the branches, bared– sumac, maple wings, berries in balls, red and rotting.
Ransacking the diaries I kept for my kids for an entry this day, I find, in my middle child's diary: Nov. 16, 2005, a raucous entry for a raucous time: her teens. We wake, crammed into the nest of our family bed; all night she swears like a sailor, and while all the bodies in bed are just waking I ask are you hungry? and note, without editing, her obscene reply.
All photos and text copyright Kelly DuMar 2017