#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

We can make our minds so like still water that beings gather about us, that they may see, it may be, their own images, and so live for a moment with a clearer, perhaps even with a fiercer life because of our quiet.

By W.B. Yeats

Wind banging the open screen doors, rain blowing in, a beautiful, disruptive rainstorm. I want very much to go out and walk in this change of weather with Charlie, but I know it’s not wise to walk under the trees in this wind. So, we wait and start the day without our walk. I lead my Farm Pond Writers on Zoom instead of in person this week. We start with a meditation to generate some peace from the disruption most of had from the televised brawl in our living rooms last night. The writing from the prompt about a seashell is nourishing and powerful and stimulating. A very refreshing gathering while the sun and showers, sun and showers out side my windows alternate. Then, the sun wins for awhile, and my daughter and I take our mid-day swim at Farm Pond. It’s about 70 degrees, and cloudy again. The leaves are spilling from the trees and collecting on the surface of the shore. We dive in, take our swim around the island with Charlie. It’s the last day of September, and we have kept up or swims now through the month. It’s a busy week, and the taxes are due to the accountant. So, I have to prioritize taxes over poetry. I am making progress. My youngest comes home and we take a long walk in the drying woods under an afternoon of blue sky and catch up on each other’s lives. The moon rose tonight in a clear sky, almost full, and so fierce with light, and there is no debate about the moon, how it’s beaming from the sky to all of us.