#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Morning Meadow

“The edge of the sea is a strange and beautiful place.”
― Rachel Carson

On this day of departure: A walk across the trestle bridge, early, and into the grassy, wide open meadow under the softest blue, through the wildflowers, the bladder campion and the buttercups and violets and more. Home to pack: the bustle and anxiety of loading the car. We drive to Maine, to Bristol, to Pemaqud Point where we unpack to the sounds of the Atlantic sloshing rock and the bright spray of a mild sea. A first trip in months. We settle in, I have a nap and wake not remembering where I am and why the surf is pounding in my consciousness. Ah. Tonight a moon mostly behind clouds. A restful, hypnotic soundscape. An excitement to explore in morning light. To see with fresh eyes what I have not seen before. In the meadow I finished “Finding the Mother Tree,” and give it five stars. I have downloaded Isabel Wilkerson’s The Warmth of Other Suns which I have been wanting to read for some time and shall begin, perhaps tomorrow. I have a short stack of paper books I have also brought and plan to read voraciously.