#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

My two group day. I work on brush, take my swim. My groups are wonderful. My daughter comes over in the afternoon. Fudgy is hanging around us a lot. He’s getting lots of special attention, and seems to appreciate it. It’s a shock every time I see him without his beautiful tail feathers. But we’re all so glad he’s doing well. No poems today, but some research. We played pickle with Franci and Will outside at the end of the day. In downtown Sherborn. Near the cemetery, up the hill, where my parents’ ashes are. And there was baseball being played. Low clouds, some sun bursting through. Moist air. Lots of moisture but not rain A breeze. Air full of pollen and nostalgia. It’s not my son on the baseball field anymore. My parents would have loved to play pickle. I feel them watching us. It’s a lot of fun and special to be outdoors. We walk across the street afterwards and have dinner, the four of us. Wave gone until Friday. He begged me to race with him this morning before school and even though I had to get going to a lab appointment for a blood draw, I raced him and he won. And won. And won. The smoke tree bushes in the yard, I have a few of them, are brilliant and gorgeous in the morning sun.