#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Dusk on the brook

Lovely summer air. Drying in sun. Warm and refreshing. A call right away from my dear friend, so I take my coffee into the yard and we talk before anyone else is up. I stroll across the dewy field to the river, onto the moss. My friend’s voice in my ear and a youthful snapper digging a hole for eggs with her hind legs a short distance from the water. Wave will want to see this. I must go in, and I wake him for a pancake. If he gets ready in time we can go see the turtle, and he does. So we have to race, and the turtle is still there. He starts to try and pick it up—doesn’t understand she is actually very busy digging her hole and getting ready with eggs, but he stops before touching her. We race back. Then I decide to work on the yard instead of swimming. So much to be done. I prune and weed and then work on clearing some brush. Pretty soon it’s time to go in to lead my Charles River Writers in craft. Then a quick break for my Israeli group, and a long break before my late afternoon group, a special one I’m offering in photo-inspired writing for recovering women. I’m prepped, and go out for a couple of hours of brush work in the lovely sunshine with a nice breeze. I’m so so happy to be outdoors. Then I go in to clean up, and run the group which goes very well, on the the theme I’ve offered of spiritual awakening. Wonderful writing generated. In the early evening Wave comes home. He wants to go turtle hunting again. I somehow get enough energy to go back across the field to the river. Our youthful snapper is gone. Her egg hole is empty. She either didn’t lay eggs or somebody stole them. No evidence of shells. We go to the brook, singing songs about flies and mosquitos. He is so cheerful tonight. And so am I , but also very tired. The brook is gently rippling as the mosquitos nip our bare arms and we go inside. A race, of course.