The web in the grass spangled the meadow, and we, Charlie and I walked alone under the wide open sky along the trail through the browned lace and felt the age of summer. It was warm and wet there. And I thought of running, but felt like walking, and went up the steep hill three times to pump my heart and Charlie cheerfully attended me. I thought of a swim, and decided to wait until late afternoon. Ah, a fateful decision to delay. But I had a writing coaching session with a client and then my wonderful niece came with he son so we could work on plans for my daughter’s baby shower. And, to my delight, they stayed and we spent the afternoon hours of hot sun in the yard, mostly at the frog pond, a great source of whimsy and curiosity and delight. Oh! It’s such fun to play with children! We named the two frogs and the two painted turtles and squealed with joyful surprise every time they hopped in and out or poked their eyes up on the surface. We picked vegetables from Perri’s garden, most of them the young one did not plan to eat when his mother cooks them at home. And we played running up and down the hill on my lawn and arm wrestling, and then, turning a corner I tweaked my glut and now I’m awfully sore, and that killed my afternoon swim. I will rest it and hope for the best tomorrow. It was a thoroughly playful afternoon and I was sorry to see them go; and also happy, because I will have what my sister has soon enough: a daughter with a son! As if that wasn’t enough happiness for a late summer afternoon in my yard, my dear friend - who is also going to have a grandson soon! - came by to connect after our mutual travels, and she brought her puppy, but poor Charlie, poor, patient Charlie had had quite enough play for the day and snubbed Rocky quite severely. I also prepped for tomorrow: the Farm Pond Writers will meet tomorrow after our summer break, in my yard, physically distanced, to say hello and get all of our catching up talking out of the way so, next week, when we meet for our workshop, everyone will be ready to write, write, write. I sort of started a poem today from my blog last night. Put a few ideas down. I wonder if I can make something of it by Thursday workshop.