Once I was beset by anxiety but I pushed the fear away by studying the sky, determining when the moon would come out and where the sun would appear in the morning.”

~ Louise Bourgeois

Yes, into frost over the meadow. I do not see the web until I stop, bend, look. What caught my eye, what made me want a closer look was simply the blade of brown meadow grass, in a frosted circle. And then I saw the spider had found it too. Who knows how I knew there was something exceptional hidden in the little world of this blade of grass? How fortunate that I looked. Yes, it is a lesson I learn, a lesson of reward for me, more than once this morning. I cross the trestle bridge; both dogs trot along behind me. We have heard the 7:00 a.m. train whistle so we know we’re crossing in safety.  Once again, spring is tiny and low to the ground, almost hidden and shivered in frost. I bend for a close look because the frosted green leaves are so cheerfully edged in white. And there! I see there’s more––the purplish blue blossom, the cheeful-ist of all. There is a lot of delight in my morning walk. A busy day, meetings on Zoom, two of which I’m producing for writers and all goes well. There is so much hope and intimacy when writing is the topic to explore. When I am done tonight, and leave the computer, happy, satisfied. and very tired, I find the living room full. No one has gone to bed, and I am happy for the cheerful welcome and warmth of family. And the most perfect chocolate chip scone, baked by me in the late, late afternoon.