Too early, I woke, but with the title for a new poem and an urge to begin it. And, so I did. A skeleton of the idea, and not enough time to develop it. Finished preparing the writing prompt for my first Farm Pond Writer’s Collective workshop of this, our sixth year, and then went out into the early sun rising with Charleston and Suzi both. Happily going along until I tripped and sprung my hamstring pain again into a painful twinge. Hobbled home, and the dogs not happy to be stopping short, and me not happy either. But fine, and off to my workshop, in person, with masks and chairs far apart in my friend’s yard, and no touching. How good it was to be outdoors with this wonderful collective of women, welcoming a new member, and writing deeply in a light wind and enough sun to warm us. Then, I was determined to swim. And so four of us finished the workshop and descended to the dock, I dove right in and swam swiftly, but it was not really cold. The water welcomed me, and I swam around the island and back feeling strong and cheerful that my pulled muscle didn’t keep me from doing what i love. Such joy to get this September swim in the pond with friends. A busy day. Two more groups. Tonight I offered a Playback and Poetry webinar for Playback North America, and it was wonderful; a woman from India, with her children asleep, at 5:30 in the morning! I’m not tired tonight. I’m stimulated and satisfied: the writing was deep for the participants and inspirational and opened them up and gave them something they very much appreciated. And I loved the material I prepared. The big question, right now, for me, and my daughter, is what about the watermelon? There are six plump beauties on vines in the garden. And it’s a mystery we have not yet solved––when will they be ripe?