#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
. . . .The first sky
is inside you, open
at either end of day. . . .~ Excerpt from “One Heart,” Li-Young Lee
I walked with awareness, this October foliage is intense, satisfying, splendid, fleeting. I am leaving the river for the weekend. I am grateful for every moment under these trees, bursting with lively light. I stood under the beech, felt the golden shower falling over my shoulders, felt myself carrying a glow along the trail. Mittenless, my hands were icy, but the cold was bearable - just. I knew it would warm up, and it did. I had decided in my heart that today I would dip in Farm Pond, my last of the season, very likely. I just wanted to feel immersed, to be one with the water before winter. Frank had a break between clients and agreed to come. We packed the dogs in the car and drove to my friend’s house, and I slapped down the flagstones in bare feet, above the blue gorgeous water. I stood for a brief moment on the stone platform and saw the colorful leaves under the shallow water. Then, I dove in. A thousand toothpicks of ice pricked my skin and my bones ached with cold. It was wonderful! I gasped and swam, a little sorry that it was so cold, as I knew I couldn’t go very far safely in this temperature. It was enough. I swam toward a beam of gold, reflecting from the leaves on the trees. It wasn’t warm, but it was gorgeous. I climbed out, toweled dry and all my skin was tickled fresh and charged with energy. Today, I revised the poem I shared with my poetry pals Tuesday night. It felt better. I packed my suitcase for New York City, our early departure tomorrow morning. I am looking forward to attending our IWWG Annual Big Apple Conference, and speaking on a panel about publishing poetry. And seeing so many writers, and being with friends. Tonight, a writer who is a member of the Guild, who has taken my workshops, asked me for some time to discuss her writing project before she pitches it at the conference this weekend, and I was happy to listen and support her idea and offer some guidance. Soon I will turn 61. Always near my birthday, I miss my mother. Doesn’t everyone? I keep passing her smiling picture in my kitchen on the bulletin board. I like to feel her wishing me.
