#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Snow, predicted, still felt like a surprise. So rare in October. And it fell and fell over the green lawn and the leaf padded trails and heavy, weighty on the bending branches. Thick and wet, it fell all day into inches. My first walk was pleasant, my feet wet. The snow whisked into the river and brook. There was a pleasant silence and the awe that fresh snow brings to the woods. We tramped about and climbed the steep hill twice. I had a long indoor swim, my feet ached as they warmed up. I prepared for my final How Pictures Heal webinar with my TLAN course, and then met with them in the snow-dark afternoon in the quiet of the little out of the way office. It was a deep dive and a healing share. I was moved by the writing and the honesty and the trust. In the late afternoon, I was looking forward to a quiet evening with my husband and daughter by the fire. I made a lentil soup; the lentils simmered all day and spiced up the house with their hearty aroma. I sauteed onion and celery, garlic and carrots, and those went into the lentil pot. Simmer and simmer. I added red vinegar, salt, pepper, a can of chopped tomatoes, a tablespoon of brown sugar, a dash of red wine. Simmer and simmer. A squeeze of fresh lemon juice. This is Molly Katzen’s recipe from my old torn and greatly used Moosewood Cookbook. I put on my boots, took the dogs and went into the late afternoon woods. It had stopped snowing, I wanted to walk through the woods to my neighbor’s house and drop a small gift. Branches still covered in leaves bent over the trail, weighted in snow. It was a hearty walk, pushing so much out of our way, sloshing along. We dropped the gift, slid and sloshed through the soft snow on the wet trail and just about to go in and my phone rang, my friend was heading out of her house for a walk with her dogs, and I said, I’ll meet you in the meadow! It was a longer trudge than I expected, the snow so messy, but the light! The light in the wetlands, that soft blue and pink, it was heavenly to see, it was such a stunning dusk coming. We met and walked more through the branches and snow, catching up. And parted. I was cold now, hungry, tired and wet, all I could think of was that fire, that soup, the warm ones sitting inside. It was dark by the time I returned, past dinnertime, so satisfied, and so happy to be safe and warm indoors. And my soup, it was certainly one of my best.