All the new plantings want to be watered, but first I go into the warm and sunny woods. At the brook I stop and listen to it rush and trickle under the trail through a pipe and out the other side. This is the loveliest kind of quiet way to start the day. Everything green is alive and full of spirit enlivening the day. I reach the railroad tracks, and there, in the gravel and coarse grass are the June pinks, a little bit early, a pleasant surprise. These wildflowers bloom here in this spot every year. Not because somebody planted them, but because this is their habitat, and this is where their seeds were brought by the wind or an insect, and this is there they belong. Later, I water and fertilize all the plants, new and old, especially the transplanted ferns. And, today I didn’t have my poetry group tonight because of the holiday, but I revised the poem I’ve been working on - not changing the first part, but adding two parts, and now it’s a much longer poem, but if feels finished. We’ll see. I will be grateful it feels this way for now, and ready to revise after getting some feedback. I’m very curious about how it will be received. I may decide to share it tomorrow night in a monthly meeting I have online with two poet friends who always have supportive and helpful feedback. The woods are so exciting right now. I feel like it has been a long, long time since I was away at the Gulf. It has been a long rainy season, and the woods are the better for it.