“…Today the bird stays with me, as if I am moving through

the heron’s dream to share his sky or water—places

he will rise into on slow flapping wings or where

his long bill darts to catch unwary frogs. I’ve seen

his slate blue feathers lift him as dangling legs

fold back, I’ve seen him fly through the dying sun

and out again, entering night, entering my own sleep…”

~Excerpt from “Great Blue Heron,” T. Alan Broughton

Today, I chose titles for four images I will have as part of a Caribbean exhibition next week, in Sarasota, at Fogartyville. Ones I took in Martinique two years ago. Tomorrow I must finish getting them framed. And tonight I moderated an open mic in the IWWG Digital Village online and that was so special, to have twenty-five women writers reading their poetry and prose from all over the country–and out of the country too. I love that we can gather this way, in our virtual auditorium, to make and be part of community, of deep listening. Before I walked this morning, I found something fun: I was searching the Internet for information about my mother’s father. This news clipping is what I found! And, oh my! I just actually read the date for the first time. It’s actually dated February 13! That’s today! The clipping is from the Boston Sunday Globe which ran on February 14, 1915. This is really a marvelous find.

The water of my dream, the water of the Gulf in my dream, was so clear. And I woke into clarity, too, and began a post card poem, a new series of poems, I hope, from my Gulf photos. And I thought, while I was just beginning this, well, I wonder if or how this project might be connected with the letter project. And the sun was coming up, and so I went quickly out to the beach to walk with the birds at breakfast. I walked out the the Longboat Pass Bridge which is where I saw the heron on the dock. And then, in the bay just beyond, the slim sleek fin of the dolphin, dipping and rising.