"The consolations of space are nameless things.
It was after the neurosis of winter. It was
In the genius of summer that they blew up
The statue of Jove among the boomy clouds.
It took all day to quieten the sky
And then to refill its emptiness again...."

-  Wallace Stevens, An Ordinary Evening in New Haven

Up early and out into the humid morning, the wet gardens, the river still, calm, high. I walk with Charlie for a morning swim at Farm Pond. He fishes at the shore while I swim around the island, under the clearing sky. It’s July. July and glorious summer. I want it to stay July 1 for four weeks and begin again, July. Charlie is waiting for me on the dock. We walk home through the woods, past the wetlands where the cattails are fresh and the roses too. I talk to my sister, I talk to a friend. My youngest calls, she was home for two nights and is leaving now. I work on the poems from letters again; I am pleased with my progress; pleased that I feel engaged and the project is moving. After dinner, Frank and I stroll with the dogs across the yard to the river, so still, un-rippled, and greened by the reflection of trees. The house is quiet. We are three now, not five, for dinner. I feel peaceful, un-rippled, at peace, like the river, filled up.