#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

You must love the crust of the earth on which you dwell more than the sweet crust of any bread or cake; you must be able to extract nutriment out of a sand heap.
~ Henry David Thoreau

I am in the last of the bright glow of this season’s foliage, fading fast, November approaching. We go out into the damp morning. Some of the trees have completely lost their leaves. It’s a fresh morning, and we walk along the river under the trees. In the late afternoon I go for a second walk, in the city, with my daughter, it’s our day to meet for dinner before I go to my poetry workshop. We make a long walk to the restaurant, chatting away. It’s lovely to have this ritual to look forward to, the three of us, her boyfriend joins us after work and we catch up on each other’s news and lives. And then, off to workshop, where I feel successful. My poem is well received, much improved, “incantatory,” Tom says. I feel the changes have worked. It’s not perfect, and I feel I could even not bother with the three words that could be improved upon. But, of course, I will, tomorrow, dig in and work these kinks out if I can. It’s very nice to feel pleased with my poem inspired by my husband’s heart.