My daughter asked me to wake her for my walk, but she’s been away so long I revert to habit, and head out early with Charlie. Now it is becoming summer hot and the woods lose their coolness and I feel thirsty on my walks. The wild roses are blooming in the woods. The milkweed is in bloom, so I stop to take a close look always as I pass. My thoughts turn to softness. What I mean is, yesterday, last night I was tired and when I am tired I get irritable. So, the things I felt irritable about last night my spontaneous mind answers with gentleness this morning. I don’t have to work on this: it just is. I am deep into my walk when I remember my daughter asked to go with me. In the yard, I water everything. I have nothing to plant. Later, I go with my daughter, who was happy to sleep in, to the plant store and buy more perennials and more herbs in the hot sun. I have a poem ready for my group tonight which is nice. I even have time to put the herbs in the garden. While I’m planting, my older daughter texts me. She has downloaded my free Aim for Astonishing pdf and is writing to tell me how much she appreciated about the writing prompt. What photo did she write from? Well, as it turns out, she wrote from the same photo I have written a poem from and was workshopping this weekend in Nathalie’s workshop. And this intrigues and delights me, of course. I have not yet shared my poem with her. The picture is one I took of her at Easter over a year ago. It’s a favorite of both of ours. I will share my poem with her when the moment is right. And now, I wonder if she’ll share her insights with me, and I wonder how she sees the photo, where it took her, what it means to her, what insights she gained. And I wonder what she will think of mine. I do think, often, she is reading my mind. Such synchronicity. Did I tell her I was writing from this particular photo? I can’t remember. In any case, how wonderful it is that she is intrigued by my process; that she’s opening this door. The feedback tonight on my poem was split. Half seemed to really appreciate the poem as it is. Half seemed to think it needed more work in a certain area. So there. Who knows what I’ll do next. I’ll sleep on it, of course.