#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Shadow of trees in the wild bugleweed

Every spring is the only spring - a perpetual astonishment."
- Ellis Peters

Around 5 a.m. the birds and the sun have been waking me. The balcony doors and windows left open let in the damp cool fresh of the birdsong and morning air. I tried to return to sleep but got up and did housework before a walk. Watered the plants. Went into the woods with my youngest, who stayed over, and found many blooming slippers on Lady Slipper row. Also passed the dogwood trees in blossom. She listened well to me processing something; mostly I talked the whole way, a bit unusual, but I found clarity on an issue, thanks to that. We parted at our yard on our return and I went on with Charlie, another loop around the property, and passed the wild bugleweed all purpled in the grass, and the arms of trees shadowed in them. Then, hurried in for poetry workshop. Got helpful feedback, as usual. Then, this afternoon, led the IWWG Open Mic and feature: Michelle Bowdler, it was illuminating and well attended and the open mic very effecting; I read a poem, a garden poem I’ve been developing for some time. Then, after that richness, changed my clothes an spontaneously met Frank in the garden in the late afternoon. I planted the green beans and watered; he planted the squash. Then, making dinner, I was swept by a sleeping spell. So tired! Cannot keep my eyes open tonight even in this daylight as it lingersl

Wild geranium in the woods