#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream
Frosty Marigold
“The tints of autumn...a mighty flower garden blossoming under the spell of the enchanter, frost.”
― John Greenleaf Whittier
Mmmmm, waking to windows open to fresh morning air. Briefly, summer again. Sun in the sunflowers, sun in the cheerful late garden in the shrivelling. Seeds in the sunflowers ready for harvest. I wake later than I planned. No poem for my workshop. I sit for an hour and eek one out, a first draft. Submit it late. Then, go out, and in shorts again. The frosted field, the marigolds. I walk around the my daughter’s garden, the sweet and spicy scents nearing rot. The zucchini and squash done. A few squash blossom left on the vine. Tomatoes picked. One lovely eggplant blossom. All the colors come in and charge me up for this morning wander with Charlie, along the river. Some leaves going red. Day heating up with yellow and gold. I take a rugged walk and return for my workshop. My poem is what it is: a very first draft. I’ve got work to do. But it’s started. And it draws me in to find what it’s supposed to be. In the afternoon, I have a stunning 90 minutes in the presence and poetry of Luci Tapahonso, my featured author in the IWWG Open Mic. At the last minute I give my daughter who’s pregnant the link, and urge her to join. She does. Luci talks about the Navajo Nation, growing up on the reservation, the value the tribe places on respecting children. Her tone is soft, her authority is grounded and generous and calm. It’s a pretty exquisite session, including the open mic that follows. (You can watch/listen to the recording of Luci reading here.)
May we always recognize the multitude of gifts that surround us.
May our homes, schools, and communities be filled with the wisdom
and optimism that reflect a generous spirit.
~ Luci Tapahonso
Just before the reading, I’ve told my daughter we’ll grab a swim at the pond. But, when it’s noon, time to go, I feel a rustle of resistance. It’s not so hot. But she is in her bathing suit! So there, it’s settled. I make a quick lunch to go and then we are on the dock and dive in and go, around the island, and this time Charlie stays fishing from the shore and doesn’t follow. It’s splendid. Zesty. Terrific. I have begun my How Pictures Heal Workshop for TLAN and I’m excited about the participants and the writing we’ll do and the experience we’ll have. My son is in the yard in the late afternoon with his dog who is now a very large puppy who weighs almost as much as our dear skinny Suzi. Windows open to crickets and freshness. My daughter, after listening to Luci says she was on the verge of tears throughout, it moved her deeply, the respect for children.
Sunflower Seeds
