#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Walk, swim, bike, and now, a pleasantly tired evening. The coyotes howled outside our windows last night, teasing Charlie. All ages, even the youngest yipped and cried trying to call him out for the chase. Inside, Charlie barked and barked, he was churned up and ready to rumble. I had to get up and distract him and convince him he wasn't going anywhere. Finally, he gave up, and the coyotes did too. We walked early, but well after sunrise, and as I was passing the swamp the bright red charm of the jack-in-the-pulpit berries stopped me for a closer look. Later, completely spontaneously and unplanned, all three of my kids were home and happy to go for a swim at Farm Pond together in the afternoon. What a happy treat it was for me to share this summer day, this shining pond, and this special time together outdoors. If we had tried to plan this, it wouldn't have happened. The stars aligned on a quiet, holiday afternoon. Then I biked home with my daughter - first time I've been on my bike in ages, and when I got home I signed up for the local mini triathlon that I usually do, but skipped last September. Not this year. I'm going to be ready for this annual ritual. The bike this year is my weak link, but I have time to prepare, and today's ride was a start. I didn't like skipping last year; that I hadn't felt prepared. Not a writing day today, but I thought a bit about the revisions I made to my Laurel Lake piece, wondering if it's done, wondering if I'll take it back to my critique group once more for more feedback, or let it be and see what happens as I send it out. Today, my answer is: let it be where it is for now. I sent it out yesterday to a contest; it was the deadline, and it felt like just the right thing to do. This morning I awoke after a kiss. I kissed an old boyfriend, we were seeing each other after a long absence, and I kissed him spontaneously and affectionately - on the cheek, not the lips, and he seemed surprised; I was genuinely happy to see him. I guess, because I've been writing about him, and maybe not so much with affection, but with some anger. He's a main figure in the Ritual for Eggs essay I've been working on for some months, and I woke from my dream happy to have seen him and kissed him and said hello. So, perhaps something is healing between us in the mysterious world of my psyche. I wonder how this will shift in the essay, if I'm writing from my post-kiss, happy to see you again place? When I return to the essay, momentarily, I shall see.
Arisaema triphyllum,(jack-in-the-pulpit, bog onion, brown dragon, Indian turnip, American wake robin, or wild turnip)
All photos and text ©Kelly DuMar unless otherwise attributed