“I cannot endure to waste anything so precious as autumnal sunshine by staying in the house."

[Notebook, Oct. 10, 1842]”
― Nathaniel Hawthorne

It was like that, even though it’s not autumn yet – I didn’t want to go inside today. A breeze blew across the yard, it blew up memory and nostalgia. Memory of my childhood, breeze of back-to-school shopping for sneakers at Kiley’s store in Framingham, Keds, in whatever color they had in my size. Bins and bins of sneakers, discounted seconds. My mother took the five of us. And a pair of shoes, if there wasn’t a hand-me-down. I wanted the breeze blowing me open all day. I walked into the woods after sleeping until 7:30; late for me. And the brook is drying in places, so, in my wet shoes, I mucked around in the ankle deep mud, so happy, and I met the frog. And I saw the Cardinal flower, and the forget-me-nots! Blooming in the swampy area, they thrilled me. The river’s edge, under the trestle, it was greenly green with the spirit of the Charles in August. I stayed out and planted some azaleas in this difficult spot of part sun at the back entrance to the house, along the granite steps. And I weeded and weeded in the wonderful breeze. And I needed more azaleas. So, Frank came with me and we bought more and while he cooked dinner I planted the rest of them and heaved some big rocks into new positions until I felt it was just about done. At Home Depot, serendipitously, my nature life met my poetry life: I ran into the woman who runs a poetry series where I’d like to be a feature in the fall. She had gotten my e-mail and promises to respond soon. The bride-to-be and groom-to-be came by to finish fixing Frank’s tractor as a favor and mowing the lawn. We did not discuss any specifics.But the groom-to-be’s family will be in town from out of the country on the original date. And my intuition tells me there will be a wedding then. We shall see. Finally, I went indoors.