#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Pair of Swans, Charles River

Did you too see it, drifting, all night, on the black river?
Did you see it in the morning, rising into the silvery air –
An armful of white blossoms,
A perfect commotion of silk and linen as it leaned
into the bondage of its wings; a snowbank, a bank of lilies,
Biting the air with its black beak? . . .

~ Excerpt from “The Swan,” by Mary Oliver

I walked straight to the river, wondering if I would see the swan today––and, a pair skim the black river. Nearby, almost out of view, I notice two little brown blogs at the river’s edge. Must be their young. Charlie doesn’t bother to bark at them today. The ice has melted; it seems to be a day of thaw; I wander into the wetlands and my boot falls through the snow once but doesn’t get wet. The foundation of frozen snow is melting. No ice, really. Late February, and the snow is messy. Late February! Where did this month go? Spring begins to feel near enough. In the late afternoon I push the stroller up and down the driveway. The mostly full moon, white and fresh, hangs in the light blue sky. Full Friday, I think. Tomorrow seems momentous: Frank gets his first vaccination shot. One year ago I thought I would be traveling in just a few days from Longboat Key to San Antonio, TX, to the Association for Writers and Writing Programs conference. What this year has been like, still unimaginable one year ago. The light of the moon will beam into my bedroom tonight, and for days to come. Moon as bright as swans on the black river of morning.