I went to bed discouraged, overtired. I had no poem for Thursday morning workshop. Anyway, I fell asleep; wondering if I would just skip it. I never just skip it. At 3:00 a.m., wide awake, I decided to revise the rain poem and do what I could and send it off. Then, I fell back asleep, more settled, more peaceful. And slept until 8. Groggy, out into the morning. First thing: a beautiful feather. Probably owl. And bright buttercups at the rushing brook. And jack-in-the-pulpits, one of my favorites. I did not have much time. My daughter called me over to the garden fence where she was working to see our first painted turtle of the season laying her eggs, right up against the wire. Which might be smart. The troubles these turtle eggs have surviving! The predators: skunk and coyote and raccoon, they’ll be at them tonight if they can find them. It was a great workshop. A really great one; the poems shared so finely crafted; the feedback shared so helpful. And my poem gets the help it needs and I felt a huge relief. And gratitude, I didn’t skip. In the afternoon, treated myself to a trip to the plant store, masked and gloved, and all outdoors and filled my car with perennials and dug and planted in the garden in the front for much of the hot afternoon. I am so delighted that writers are sending me photos and writing they generated from my workshop Tuesday night. I love seeing that there are results: I look forward to reading them tomorrow. May the turtles of tomorrow rest in peace so they may find their brilliant way across the meadow to the Charles River in September and be in their home for life.