Ice rain in the darkness tonight. Moon is full and unseen. It’s there, it’s there. It was not raining this morning, but the sky was washed bleak, waiting for it to come. I took a happy walk to the river, then over the trestle bridge. They have mown the meadow and I walk all around it to the edges of the river that borders it where the berries and the milkweed and the beaded ferns flourish. This was to be a very socially active weekend, in person. It was a lovely day with Frank home, cheerful and helpful and sweet. I ordered gifts online. We set up the train! What fun, to have it running this year again. Then, we rented, for an exorbitant fee, the new movie “Spencer,” and I really enjoyed it. I was pleased to hear from the journal, On the Seawall, edited by Ron Slate that my poem that was accepted a couple of months ago will be published Tuesday, Dec. 28. I was just about to e-mail him and follow up, but I kept hearing a voice that said, patience, Kelly. Tonight, I lit my candle, and sat with it in the dark listening to the rain and remembering, visualizing, the meditation my friend and I shared in Muir Woods a week ago and that was very refreshing, to be in that air and atmosphere again. I am so grateful for that time, for that trip, for those hours and days of not worrying and being concerned about Covid. I am so grateful Frank got to be with his father for his 80th birthday in Florida. Now, hunkering down again, I feel very fortunate, even as I miss the relaxed together time with family and friends I was hoping to have for this holiday.