First day of fall, I wake to the sky outside the window splashed in mix of clouds and brilliant light. In the wetlands of Rocky Narrows the trail runs between wetlands at the edge of the Charles. The river is high, and the little path puddles with inches of water. This morning, a young snapper walks across the path, changing sides, just as we’re passing. Suzi keeps her distance, but I lean in for a closer look; young and harmless, it seems, at this age. Mushrooms proliferate in all the moist places. Today I open my heaven and earth poem for revision. Slowly, surely, like the turtle, I progress, improving, but not quite solving they mystery of it. Yet.