#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Morning Bike Ride past Charles River Wetlands in Dovr

I loved the white moon circles
and the purple halos,

on a plate as the salt sweat them.

The oil in the pan smoked like bad
days in the Syrian desert—

when a moon stayed all day—

when morning was a purple
elegy for the last friend seen—

when the fog of the riverbank
rose like a holy ghost. . .

Excerpt from “Eggplant,” by Peter Balakian

Oh, I woke not feeling like rushing to do anything active. But soon enough, this resistance passed, and I realized my body was saying: go for the bike ride. I have been wanting to do the route that’s part of the Boosters Triathalon that I’ve done for many years, it’s a mini-tri held in town for many years, and starts at Farm Pond with the swim. I’m sure it won’t be held this Sept., but I’m planning on doing it any way, on my own, with my dock friends. So, I set off into the sunny, blue skied joy of a July morning. I was so pleased to not be tired by this bike ride. I stopped by the wetlands in Dover because the wetlands were so lovely, and during the triathlon, I never stop, but bike on by. I passed the meadow, too, on my way home, and stopped for the black-eyed-Susans. At home, I found my daughter in her garden watering for the hot sunny day ahead. We are planning her baby shower and I wanted to tell her some of my ideas. She spotted a purple blossom and said with delight: Oh! An eggplant blossom! Her first. I bent and took a close look and shared her excitement. She is abundant with zucchini and sharing her green beans too. Then, I go off to my flower gardens to weed and water and plant, finally, the shrubs I bought last Sunday: two smoke tree shrubs, a gardenia and some day lilies. It’s terribly, terribly hot, but I am satisfied to be, like my daughter, planting and growing things, harvesting beauty, spending energy in soil.