#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Anticipating a long day of writing, I walked peacefully into the woods with the dogs. I wanted to look closely at everything, and I took my time, listening to the songbirds. I will finish my walk, sink into my chair, and explore what I want to say today in my essay. But

my phone rings and changes the plan of my day. Someone will visit, who is here from out of town; as much as I want to say yes to my writing,  I don't want to say no to this visit. I keep walking, and try to think like a plant. Acceptance. Here and now. I want to be flexible and cheerful about my choice, and that's what I decide. And, that's what I do.

I manage the visit and some time to write, after all. Not the expansive, private, introverted, uninterrupted hours I had craved, but am happy with how I manage to keep going and write a new section. It's rough. But the bones of it are down on the paper, and I can work with it from here.

Tonight, I have my writer's group; I am bringing a poem I wrote some time ago that I've recently revised. Walking before group in Cambridge, I am enthralled by the city trees in all their new leaves. Noisy people crowd onto their balconies and porches and party with friends on a Monday night in the early evening. 

Home, finally, the stars are out as I climb the steps, tired, satisfied, grateful for the richness of the writing in my group, grateful for the visit, my own flexibility, the spring that is spring and not winter weather. Especially, for the whole sky of starlight over my day.