Second summer, doors thrown open. Butterfly weed in bloom, a pair of monarchs flitting and the milkweed blowing. Wind. A birthday happiness in the house and yard. So much gold. Pine needles gold under all the evergreens, lit by the sun. I walk Charlie around the property, then sneak off through the woods without him. My swim. Somehow, in this gorgeous weather, I always imagine the beach will be crowded! One couple leading their dog on a leash back to their car and the boats moored and unmoving and the beach, brightly lit and wide open. My swim in the perfect cold fresh. Frank and his father happy to be together; the youngest and her boyfriend come over and there is the sweet commotion of relaxation with family. Those monarchs, a bonus, I wasn’t expecting. Windows wide open, the breeze blowing. Charlie doesn’t want to come inside, must be coaxed from the prowl in the woods with a cookie. This is a weekend that calls for an extension. I think of where I was one year ago, in Boston, the little room where the new life began, wrapped, warm, hungry and wanted.