#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Wasp nest, meadow

I watched a purple sky-spill of sunrise before going out. It was cold, but I didn’t want to wear gloves; they interfere with my photos. I was looking for color in a muted landscape of November and low, thick clouds. I tromped around for quite awhile with Charlie and Suzi in the wetlands feeling uninspired. We crossed the trestle bridge and the meadow was wide open and inviting. We followed a path of dry and trampled wildflowers, weeds and meadow grass. I was pleased to find a broken wasp nest leaning toward the earth on a low branch in front of the river, of a fascinating texture, tissuey and crumpled. Then I hurried home, running late. A busy week. I like busy weeks. I made a fire in the late morning, my feet were cold, and opened my newest poem draft. I thought, well, I have a lot of work to do on this, but I had an idea I wanted to try. And then I made only the smallest changes after all. That was a surprise. And then that’s all I did on it for today, but I was temporarily satisfied. I applied the idea in a surprising way, and it was only a line or two. Now, I see that it’s very likely there is something missing, but I won’t know what for a time, if there is. I will workshop it Thursday. I reviewed proofs of three poems, upcoming, that will be published in two journals. And reviewed proofs of two photos of bridges that are being published in a journal with a theme of bridges. Both are pictures of bridges from my Longboat Key, Florida walks last February. I do miss that beach, those walks, the shorebirds. Who knows when we’ll return.