#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Morning Brook in Rain

I slept in and in. Woke after 9:00, it was pouring. My youngest wanted to walk, and we went out to get drenched. What splatter. So many grass puddles to slop through. I could barely take a picture in the pelting. The brook was rumpled. We did not stay out very long. I felt a kind of pleasant anticipation. Frank has been watching the weather, the impending storm, with an almost childlike delight––unusual for him. Perhaps, without the need to be traveling often, he is more welcoming of storm. He watched all day for the snow to start from the rain and showed me the gradual shift from raindrop to snow flake. And soon it was dark. It was warm and cozy in the house, both daughters here. A sleepy energy in my muscles and mind stayed with me. I prepared for my poetry reading with the Solidarity Salon online tonight, choosing poems for my eight minutes. Then I made homemade pizzas while the snow fell. When I got to the readings I changed my mind and shifted two poems out and two poems in their place; unusual for me to change my mind at the last moment from what I’ve prepared, but it felt just right. What a great line-up of poets, writers, and live musicians. Especially special to have live music being performed on Zoom. I hope I will wake to enough snow to ski.