#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Nest

Round
as the seasons which turn
and return, the wheel
of life made visible in its form

Excerpt from “Bird's Nest” by Ginny Lowe Connors

Oh, it’s November in the meadow today. Muted colors, leafless trees, the birds nest visible in the bare branches. I walk in the pleasant cool damp air. Tired from late night out, early awakening. It’s a meandering, a relaxation. No drama of animals being chased today. I have my early client, Jane, and we work on her blog essay, and I so appreciate the time we spend together on her writing and storytelling. And today, she is particularly pleased with her accomplishment: she feels very satisfied with what she has written. I understand that feeling, and I’m happy for her. Tonight, I feel some of that feeling myself when I work on revising a poem I thought was finished; in fact, it’s one I have been sending out. But I opened it, and I saw new possibilities I wanted to explore. I think I made it better. I smiled when I was done. Like Jane smiled this morning, when she was done and ready to post her blog. I have this wonderful bounty of poems right now. Unfinished, many of them, yes. Today, I feel positive, as if I have the patience and the energy to take my time with them, and let them go too early, and then pull them back, and still improve them. Tonight, well after dark, the house was quiet and I was stiff and tired from sitting too long. I surprised the dogs. Let’s go, I said, and we went out in the moonlight and starlight and mist. A clean sliced half-moon. A light jacket, the damp mist on my cheeks. The quiet warmth. I didn’t need a flashlight; there was plenty of moonlight. Fresh breath, un-stiffing my legs in a slow stroll. All the animals, unseen, making their way around the woods, the foxes and deer and raccoons and coyote. And Charlie stayed close, didn’t run off and bark. Delightful refreshment for the end of a lovely day.