#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
“Many of us have made our world so familiar that we do not see it anymore. An interesting question to ask yourself at night is, What did I really see this day?”
Charles River cloud from the trestle bridge
Snake relaxing in the branches
My friend texted me when I woke to go paddle boarding, but I was bleary eyed and couldn’t act that quickly, so I walked instead, and this made Charlie happy. It was cloudy and cooler and I was distracted for the first bit, not seeing, because I took a phone call from someone who needed someone trusted to listen to her venting and I was happy to be that listener and to understand and encourage as I walked in the lush landscape. I believe she felt better when we ended the call, and I did too, having had the chance to be useful to a loved one in need. Then, I began to notice the morning very intentionally. I stopped on the trestle bridge, entranced by the reflection of the clouds and how the picture made the drop to the river seem terrifyingly high when it is only fifteen or twenty feet. The clouds made it look like oblivion. And then I crossed the meadow and returned by the tracks, and now I was on the phone with Frank, heading home from his morning meeting, saying hello for the first time this day, and that’s when I happened to notice this common snake just resting as pleasantly as could be on the branches beside the tracks. Such elegance and relaxation, it caught my breath. And not because I was afraid. I used to be terribly, terribly afraid of snakes. Phobic. Still, I wouldn’t want to hold one, not in my hands, at least, but in my gaze, yes. And this one allowed for that. We didn’t bother each other in the least. And I was so surprised to catch this snake in such a balanced position, wrapped in its habitat. In the late afternoon I crossed the yard, the field, to the river, I was going to do some gardening, but settled for a walk with Frank in the wet grass as the most fantastic light breeze blew through field across our bare arms. Tonight, with the windows open wide, the breeze blew and then the rain came, heavy and heavier, and I shut the windows reluctantly, and the sky glowed a mustardy yellow. Now the rain has stopped and the windows are open again to the croaking frogs. I love that John O’Donahue quote above. I found it today while seeking a different quote about friendship for the closure of our Farm Pond Writer’s Collective for the summer after tomorrow. Because this is what this almost three years of my daily blog has become: my answer to what did I really see this day?
