This day was broken into four exquisite parts: rising, early, my longed for favorite hike, and Charlie’s too, in the Menemsha Hills, to Brickyard Beach, to Great Rock Bight, and with a dear friend, on a misty warm morning, just us and the birds over the rocks and sand at low tide. Crossing Roaring Brook and a swim in the Sound while Charlie sat dutifully on the beach and watched. The Trustees have restored the Brick Yard, the old Brick Factory at the edge of the Sound so beautifully. And the next part, a kayak and paddle board trip in the bright sunshine with all of us and friends and dogs across Quitsa Pond to Menemsha through the wonderful green marsh grasses with the cormorants and egrets and gulls of all kinds, and the pair of American Oystercatchers with the long orange bills and black heads. There was a breeze we paddled into on the way back, a wonderful playful day. Then, a swim at Squibnocket, the Atlantic, a chilly salty delight for me, stretching and floating and bobbing. And, after dinner, fresh scallops from the fish market, my Monday night poetry workshop with so many wonderful poems shared by my fellow participants, and my own, a poem from a letter, very well received. This morning, I slapped some wet clay from the cliffs that seeps down and mingles with the Sound on my legs and arms and let it dry and tighten my skin. And then swam it off. Tomorrow? To do it all again?