"How delighted I will be to ramble for awhile through the bushes, woods, under trees, through grass, and around rocks. No one can love the country as much as I do. For surely woods, trees, and rocks produce the echo that man desires to hear."

~ Ludwig van Beethoven

Early I woke for Charlie barking for breakfast. It was hot by the time I went out to the river and crossed the trestle bridge to the meadow where I knew I would see flying insects. I was listening to Beethoven’s 6th Symphony, Pastoral. I followed a monarch flitting through the tall grass and gave up, he wouldn’t land. I followed another, and finally, on the lacy Queen Anne it landed. Snap. I headed home sooner than usual because I wanted to weed before going in. I crossed back over the trestle and saw this beautiful painted turtle crossing the gravel by the train tracks. Charlie has completely outgrown his impulse to pick them up in his mouth, so I could safely stop for this picture. In the hot sun I weeded and weeded. Later, I told Frank and he asked if I wanted help to weed, and I said no, not now. And he said, “You always look very happy when you’re out weeding.” And, yes, it was hot, but I want to put order into the gardens before leaving at the end of the week, and I did. At the end of the day I rewarded myself with a swim in Farm Pond. Landon came and we met our friends and took the dogs and had quite a party on the dock and the rafts and paddle boards and all the dogs played and swam and made us all very delighted in the sunshine of a glorious summer afternoon. Tonight, at my workshop, I appreciated learning what’s not entirely working with my new poem, as well as what is working well. I feel detached and hopeful. Perhaps I can improve it without destroying it. I want it to live the life its meant to live and say what it’s supposed to say, and also, to be elegant and just right, like a painted turtle in gravel.