#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Speckled crab, high tide, windy morning
What a lovely sleep and dream to wake groggy and lifted into pleasant memory of being in a happy tribe of adventuresome times, such a busy way to spend a night. It’s windy on the beach and the surf is back and the birds are few and the royal terns huddle flat to the sand. Today I promise myself a shorter walk, I am driving to Tampa to see a dear friend then make a late trip to the airport for the sweet arrival of my daughter and her best friend: I will write in the time I have before leaving, working on poems. I spot the prettiest speckled crab left on the sand by the rough tide, and at Longboat Pass the sand has been blown and the shorebirds have left their pretty tracks on this easel. The tiny sandpipers run skillfully away from the lap of the foam. I have a long chat with my son while I walk, catching up, he is happy and healthy and busy and fine; and a call with a dear friend from home. And before I walked, how fun it was–my good friend called and when our other good friend called her while we chatted we added her in and had a three-way call and I’m so grateful to be able to keep in touch with loved ones while away. I do sit down and open poems. Revision. It’s swift and effective today. I have five solid, well crafted poems that I like ready to submit. I fine tune effortlessly. And it’s time to go. There is much traffic. I have flashes of wishing I was able to be at AWP being with friends and colleagues and panels and seeing San Antonio, dear home of Naomi Shihab Nye. Not be be this year. And then I spend hours with my dear Tampa friend and we sit in a coffee shop talking for hours. A man who says he is an aspiring comic, he is wearing athletic clothes and a running pack around his waist approaches us. He wants us to be the stars of his show. We have a lot of hilarity in our time together today. And then, I get the girls, the wonderful friends, the ones who met as babies and have grown together in this orbit of friendship, and we laugh and tell stories all the way back to Longboat Key and I am sleepy from the bounty of this day. Except, I have to laugh. The CDC, I read, and it’s not really funny, but it’s absurd: the CDC recommending “old people” just stay home. And this includes me! Sixty and over, the CDC says, people like me should just stay home. I have so much to tell the shorebirds.
Bird Tracks, Longboat Pass
Sandpipers in Surf