#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Evening at the river

It’s time to hide the eggs. This I do instead of walking. We filled them last night. Now the two huge bowls of colorful, candy filled eggs must prepare to be hunted. Frank has gone to the supermarket so I have the fun of this in the yard with the help of Suzi and Charlie. High, low, under leaves, in pots, behind rocks, they go. We are having an event! How long it has been since we’ve hosted something. At noon the two sets of neighbors come with seven children, carrying baskets, wearing masks, ready to hunt. I get to lead the hunt, because I know where all the eggs are. The sun is shining and it’s warm and bright in the cheerful yard. All the kids are so polite and eager, of course, and I’m pleased because I have made the hunt a challenge for all the ages. I’m so happy to be outdoors playing. And Frank has put out food. Once all the eggs are collected, we visit, and I realize we are doing it, returning to some normalcy, we are edging our way back to a social life. The little ones open their eggs and munch their candy while the grownups eat real food. We are a neighborhood. It’s official. After everyone thanks us profusely, Frank and I clean up cheerfully: quick as a wink all is cleaned up and Frank I can tell is especially happy. I go out to the yard and rake and rake and rake to my heart’s content and dumping all the leaves in the compost. After dinner, I take my walk to the river at dusk so I can get a picture. A beaver swims along the edge, out for the night. Then, Mr. and Mrs. Mallard are startled and swim away from me. And writing this, I remember something else that happened during the Easter egg hunt: I saw a bluebird by the garden!