#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Morning Brook

Another challenging night of sleep. So, I get early out of bed. Some housework. News. News is bad, getting much worse, about Ukraine. I go out with Charlie; Suzi doesn’t want to come. I am only taking him on a short walk before my swim. I want to warm up my car, but ice has glazed all the doors overnight. I try all four of them—they don’t budge. I resort to getting a back one open, climb over the car seat and into the driver’s seat and start the car, and go back out he way I came. However, walking to the river it’s not that cold. More of a melting time, in the river and the wetlands. It’s a peaceful, quiet way to begin, watching the rippling of water on the trees in the brook. Then, I go to my swim. Laps and breath. I feel terrific in the pool. I need a new poem for a poetry workshop in the afternoon and do not know how I will come up with one. That’s always the way. I led a webinar this week on writing a braid from personal photos and decide this will be my way in. I choose my three photos for three strands, my way in, I hope. I choose three from Costa Rica. Then, I am writing, no idea where I’m going. But I have the start of something. It’s not, in fact, a braid. But, staying at it, I eek out a draft of a new poem. We meet for poetry and I get some helpful feedback. I am in bed, now, early, my eyes closing. New in Ukraine worse: a nuclear power plant is on fire and the Russians won’t stop shelling it and the fire fighters can reach it. It’s horrific to realize Putin has no stopping mechanism.