#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Farm Pond, Late Afternoon

Early rising into the day, the cool of September morning, the temperature in the low 50’s. I trust it will grow to be a warm sunny day. I am in the mood for a long bike ride; Charlie is sleeping with my daughter, so I go off easily up the driveway, and soon enough I am comfortably warm. I don’t have a plan, I just go where my bike is leading me, up Hospital Road, past the meadow, into the beam of the streaming September sun. I ride through Dover, the windy tree canopied streets under the bluest of blue skies and go into Medfield, and it’s a hilly ride, and I feel plenty of energy. I plan to work on poems today, and sit down to do so; but my daughter has talking to do, and I am happy to listen; it’s a deep conversation of concerns for sexually exploited women. She has been watching a documentary; we talk about her own growing up too. Then, there is noise in the yard, my son and his girlfriend, their puppy, and so we go downstairs, tabling our conversation. And I am so glad they are here. We have a long walk and talk in the field and by the river, the puppy is loving up Charlie who is trying to be patient and playful and kind. They have so much to share about their own passions and discoveries. And the happiest thing: making a plan for how we can all get rapid Covid testing to spend the holidays together in a shared house. We might go to Vermont for Thanksgiving; and I am so heartened that we can begin to devise a realistic plan to stay together and have meals together, safely, for one and all. The sky is startlingly blue above us. Then, more. They have been reading, together, my book, Before You Forget - The Wisdom of Writing Diaries for Your Children, and Kate is telling me how much she appreciates reading about Landon from such a young age. They read it together in bed, at night, she says and giggle and she so appreciates that I kept the diaries and wrote the book. And my son, too. We talk about the meaning of it, and where the 20th anniversary project, a new book, might go: how much I want my children to be part of that, and they want it too: to write about what the diaries I kept for them growing up mean for them now, as adults. Like a call and response. We talk about it for a long time, and I’m warming up to this project because I feel their energy giving me energy and focus and enthusiasm. In the late afternoon, my daughter and Frank and I meet my friend on her dock for a swim. it’s cool in the shade of the trees and my husband jumps in and says he is chilly. But I know I just have to get wet and not hesitate. And I dive in and swim a good swim. The water is fresh and the sun is low in the sky and blinding my eyes and I’m so glad to be swimming in September. I did manage to revise a poem and submit a set of poems today. Mostly, I was grateful for the time with family, and tonight, outdoors, with dear friends under a sky clear and lit with stars above.