#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Pink and white butterfly in the lemony wildflower

“Each friend represents a world in us, a world possibly not born until they arrive, and it is only by this meeting that a new world is born.”
― Anais Nin, The Diary of Anaïs Nin, Vol. 1: 1931-1934

Wobbly legs, a bit. Tired from yesterday. So, in the overcast skylight, great for pictures, I decide what I need is a long meadow ramble with my best pals: Charlie and Suzi join me. We cross the trestle bridge, the dogs swim in the greeny water, and then we cross the lace meadow and the bright cheerful blue is breaking out from the clouds. We cross the street and enter the wide open meadow so I can find happy looking flowers. In the lemony yellow petals I bend and see a pink and white butterfly embedded. This makes me feel quite happy. What does it remind me of? A candy striper, a helper. A helper of the spirit. I have worked out, before my walk, a poem from a letter, and I’m satisfied enough for the moment. Today is a day of good talks and good listens and I’m so grateful for special friends. But my daughter loses one: a beloved dog she has known and loved. She is grieving, and I understand. We talk a long time about this. She says she doesn’t think dogs are different than people. She thinks they are the finest teachers and guides. They are here to take care of our spirits with their unconditional love and generosity, and she says this with great conviction. I don’t disagree. This kind of loss is not easily comforted. It must be felt and experienced and expressed and honored. In the meadow, the orange/red/yellow flower also beams a fiery/warm/friendly and heart-lifting color that feeds my spirit today. I am so grateful for dogs and friends and daughters and meadows and a writing life and a river that runs through it.