#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

More delicious summer. I send my poem off for workshop and outside all the wildflowers are in bloom and the bees and birds are making their noise. The river is full or rain, the grass is overgrown. I go for a long ramble, over the trestle, into the former Medfield State Hospital grounds, and the meadow across the street, and then home. A run into a very lovely fawn in the edge of the trees who runs away when she sees me. Poetry workshop is especially good because everyone loves my poem. In the afternoon I have errands and laundry and Wave is home, filling the house with his voice. We play a bit. I suggest making rice krispie treats and so we do and it’s sticky and happy fun. Tonight, after dinner, I go out on the river alone in the kayak while Frank plays tennis. I see two heron, startled into flight. It threatens to rain, but mostly stays dry. There is a gorgeous quiet of birds at night. I paddle downriver against the current on the way out. All the grass is buzzing, the lilies are on the edges, yellow balls without petals. I see a muskrat swim across my path. I go as far as I have time to go, turn back, and then I see the massive beaver crossing in front of me. He slaps his tail and dives under. A bit farther on I see his hut of sticks. Then my son calls. He has good news he wants to share with me, so we talk for the rest of my paddle home in time for poetry tonight with my friends. I’m so glad to have been on the river. There is so much peace, no more peaceful place than the rural Charles River rippling into night.