#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Lichen on a snow covered rock
This lichen on a snow covered rock, a greenliest green. Shine that captures all my sight. It feels, this morning, moist and cloud covered; as if a storm will come, but warm. Warmer than it has been. And before walking, a visit, a coffee, with my husband, who is up early and sharp witted, gives me his good insights in conversation. I am sorting priorities of projects and he sees clearly for me. He beams bright as the wintergreen lichen. The beech leaves fall on the trail. This one, stepped on. A boot print across it. I am Monday happy: new beginnings. After outdoors, I sit at my desk after watering the plants and turning on heat and light: the quiet of closing a door to my room of my own. I finish my poem from the letters, started last night, and I am happy with it. I have two more to go, but I feel pulled toward a project I started a few days ago: a submission on the theme of weather. It’s a photo series that I am also assembling with text. I am having fun with it, it’s almost done now. I get one more letter almost drafted; so I am slightly behind my goal, but I will complete it tomorrow! I am so happy with the assemblage project, and I got lost in it, and that’s forgivable. In the late afternoon, a cold drizzle falls but I walk with my dear friend and her dog and my dogs and we at least have this half hour of conversation, which is wet from the sky and shielded by masks. Our daughters who met in kindergarten, now are the mothers of sons born three months apart. This green of the lichen beamed in my sight all the damp and dreary-skied day.
