#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Wild rose in the meadow
Though it may be difficult to name even five Black women killed by the police, it doesn’t mean it’s not happening at the same urgency as Black men. Black women are losing their lives, and for some reason it just doesn’t garner the same warranted level of community concern or outcry.
~ Precious Fondren, excerpt from “The ‘Say Her Name’ Movement, Teen Vogue, June 11, 2020
Sunday morning I wake up and write my weekly Aim for Astonishing blog before walking. I hit send, and I’m ready for a stretch and the sunshine. I walk with my daughter; we cross the trestle bridge into the wide open meadow, fragrant, fresh and wildflowered. The litter we picked up a week ago on this walk needs to be cleared again, but we have forgotten the bag. We are deep in serious conversation and feelings. I stop so we can smell the wild rose, almost too, too sweet, but the petals are lightly curled, almost translucently pink. There is so much going on right now. So much. In the world, and in our conversations. What tumult and change. What beauty and truth emerging under the summer sky. Suzi, dear Suzi, has stayed behind. She is cheerful as ever, and so slowed down. How has this happened? In the brook, as we’re almost home, I take a photo of the brook, looking into what I want to see that I have not seen: a reminder to pay attention, listen, learn. I have found an op-ed in Teen Vogue about the #sayhername movement, and it’s very well written. Why don’t the deaths of black women from police garner as much publicity and outrage? This is something I’m thinking about. I want to know more about Breonna Taylor’s life and death. This was a busy Sunday under the lovely sun. My son and his special one camped overnight at the river’s edge. It’s lovely to see their camper parked across the meadow. I think: I’ll camp out there some night soon too. The birds are crazy happy in the yard. I prepare for tonight: instead of meeting in person for our annual story fire at Farm Pond, I have organized our end of year open readings to be on Zoom for the Farm Pond Writer’s Collective. And, even though we miss the sunset over the pond, and the smoke from the fire and the feast of delicious foods we serve our invited guests, there is something uniquely special about our Zoom event: loved ones who live far away who have never attended one of our open readings are able to be with us. Remarkable. I am so happy for the writers who have their loved ones from afar present to hear them read in our special group. The writing shared is so powerful: prose, poetry and deep listening and conversation. Today was a very emotional day, from start to finish. And some moments of pure pleasure: my swim at Farm Pond from my friend’s dock after completing a difficult errand, and my husband and all three children there, and both dogs, all in the pond together. And then our host arriving to complete the picture. My delicious swim around the island, and gratitude for this rich complexity of this day.
