#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

"An absolute
patience.
Trees stand
up to their knees in
fog. The fog
slowly flows
uphill.
White
cobwebs, the grass
leaning where deer
have looked for apples.
The woods
from brook to where
the top of the hill looks
over the fog, send up
not one bird.
So absolute, it is
no other than
happiness itself, a breathing
too quiet to hear."
- Denise Levertov, The Breathing

I want to wake earlier. Lengthen the day by starting it earlier. And, I do wake and rise earlier. The January woods are dry. The January sky is unremarkable. The brook ice is mostly gone. I walk longer than lately. looking for inspiration. I am feeling very accepting of these winter woods. A stay-puttedness is a must. Today, I am at peace with that idea. I hear the news out of Los Angeles, the terrible horrible tragic overwhelm. I am happy for all those who are getting vaccinations. This is the good news. I prepare for two groups, one today, one tomorrow, I am back in my groups and I’m glad. This afternoon’s group is so satisfying to lead; the writing and sharing is powerful. I make dinner, after, a pleasing one, one that pleases my husband and daughter, baked scallops and pasta and spinach and mushrooms. I think about writing a poem for Thursday but cannot find the time today. The very first thing I saw out the window this morning was a red headed woodpecker at the feeder. For the second day in a row, a light snow dusted the land.