. . .the beautiful changes

In such kind ways,

Wishing ever to sunder

Things and things’ selves for a second finding, to lose

For a moment all that it touches back to wonder.

~ Excerpt from “The Beautiful Changes,” Richard Wilbur

All my ankle needed was a good night’s sleep. How grateful I was to walk in the cool morning, first around the gardens, appreciating all the colors and varieties and abundance of hydrangea still in bloom. The most gorgeously purplish reddish blue by the birdbath! The last bit of my walk, after the wet grass, the path around the river where the trees keep coloring, and over the trestle bridge and the finely rippling Charles, and then through the meadow with the asters lasting, and my last stop was the vegetable garden, where I was surprised by a random sunflower, sprung from some accidental, dropped seed in the middle of the zucchini rows all by itself––a short yellow sun to delight me. After the taxes were done, I jumped at the chance to meet my youngest at Farm Pond for a swim. It was cool out, only 61, but the sun was lovely, and it’s Oct. 1, and it seemed like it would be a pity to waste the clear sky and bright sun. Still, I stood at the edge, not even ankle deep and hesitated. Would it just be too cold? I talked myself in, and after about ten chilly strokes I felt, well, this is going to be just fine.It was more than fine––it was one of my best swims of the summer. Just me and my daughter in the cooling pond. And a pileated woodpecker knocking on nearby trees as we returned to the beach, chilled and satisfied. Frank and I ran errands and he treated me to a hot chocolate from Starbucks, and that quite warmed me up.