Into the greenness of August, the way the leaves are reflected on the surface of the Charles, my skin feels fresher just observing. Feels like even my blood runs green in summer. My terrific walk is split: Part One with my daughter, Suzi and Charlie, and nonstop talk between us. What I lovely thing, to have endless interesting conversations with a loved one, like my bright and smart woman daughter soon-to-be-mother. And I’m greened with gratitude, too. Because when you have a history of a relationship, as we have, that has not always run smoothly, that has experienced deep conflict, when there is healing and growth and renewed intimacy, it’s even more satisfying. We’ve been working our way toward each other this way since she was born. We have conversations over the tracks and into the lacy meadow under the glinting sun that lead to enlightenment. Every day is a new beginning. Suzi and my daughter have to turn back sooner than me and Charlie. I go on and on because today I can and need to stretch these legs of summer and unkink them. It is the afternoon, soon enough, work behind us, we shift gears again: go to my friend’s dock. Hot sun swim in the fresh but hot pond. I take a longish one. I have an IWWG Board meeting tonight and it runs late and I have to cancel meeting my poetry pals. So, my night ends tired, but filled up too. I love to read the trees, the bark of the fallen branches. In this one, I see a pregnancy: a new life in the womb.