#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Evening coming on, over the brook
Up at 2:00, wanting to make sure my daughter got home from airport. Yes. Then back to sleep until 5:45 a.m. when I got up to make sure that she would get up to get Wave at 6:30. It’s lovely lovely having him home. Off to swimming lesson. He worked through his anxiety, not having seen Owen for a week. Luckily, Owen understands the fascination of transformers, and I had found Wave’s favorites so he could bring them and show them to Owen. This eased the lesson. And his crawl is coming along so well. The back stroke is brand new and a challenge. Wave was tired, I could see that. We played all morning, letting his mother sleep in from her late arrival and this was special for me. My youngest dropped by too and we had a good game of hiding and chasing and pretending. I had my Israeli group, as well as a writing client in the afternoon—both were wonderful sessions. I did lots of weeding, some brush trimming. The temperature outside was like the studio where my daughter does hot yoga. And I enjoyed it. Everything is crazy growing this summer. The rabbits or the ground hogs are devouring my great hosta plants in front and side yard, and I’ve done a good job being serene and accepting of this wreckage this year. But there is a section of hosta that is thriving, the steps up to the house under a big shady tree where they are exceptionally thriving and lovely and I like to look at them every time I go down the steps. Now, why have these varmints left this patch alone, and gotten to all the others around the house? I don’t know why, but I do know there will be serious anger if I find them near my favorite best patch that his whole and intact. The sky is turning a light shade of pink over the blue. There is more heat ahead. Wave is home and all is well in the home and yard. I had another photo acceptance by a journal today. Two images I took when I was at Ghost Ranch in Abiquiu with Frank two years ago, in January, and it snowed. I walked the Ghost Ranch labyrinth, and that’s one of the chosen ones. I hope to return to Ghost Ranch this year to work on my manuscript. Before winter. In my favorite season: when the cottonwoods turn gold.
