Wind roared out with the rain when I woke and I wondered if I would be able to walk in safety. I waited awhile, worked on a poem, and the wind died. Charlie and I went out into the drench and the mud and my boots slogged through the edges of wetlands where I wanted a closer look at so many saturated beauties. Any doubt I had about seeing beautiful images evaporated and the bright, almost turquoise green of the lichen on the floor of the woods was so cheerful. Other patches of lichen looked like inked maps of strange territories I might some day visit.The briar rose at the rushing brook was slick with raindrops and thorns. Charlie was stunned by the beauty of his reflection in the morning brook. Today was a satisfying poetry day: I returned to work on a revision that has been troubling me for months. Yesterday in the New England Poetry reading I went to I heard Ravi Shankar read one of his poems in a form I had never heard before and it opened a door. I thought: yes, this form might be the answer for my problem poem, and I was eager to see if it worked, and today I am hopeful it’s working. I will bring it to a Thursday workshop. For tonight, I worked on a found poem from the letters that I started last night. The image and the poem worked well together, and, in sharing it tonight in my Monday night group, I was so pleased to hear the positive response. I’m grateful that I have worked through my doubts and fears and resistance and, like going out into the rain and fearing I would not find any pictures, as I keep trying new approaches with the letter poems, I resolve my doubts and find some delight. And today I saw proofs of two images of mine that are being published in a journal this week. Both are found images from winter ice; both are figures of enchanted women, and one of them is going to be the journal’s cover photo. Now, to sleep, lulled by this rain this rain on the roof and the river and the lichen and willow in the wetlands.