#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Wet leaf in the woods

"The greatest gift of the garden is the restoration of the five senses."
- Hanna Rion

I feel waterlogged. Not a speck of sun today. So, when I saw, on my morning walk, in the wet woods, this leaf layered on a leaf, it caught my eye, the color, the hint, the flash of a kind of sunshine out of the corner of my eye. I saw it, passed it, then quickly turned around. At the river I found a dead fish. Then, at the brook, a couple of more. Then, on the trail where I’ve been wading through the overflowing brook, where I saw the fish yesterday, they were dead today. I waded through discovering this, and went another way home. The wettest July in forever, they say. It was a quiet day, a rainy indoors kind of day, and I am discouraged about the garden. I didn’t go in. Nothing needs water. Everything needs sunshine. We packed the bikes up for a bike ride on the nearby Holliston rail trail, but abandoned the ride when it started raining again. I worked on a few of the poems from letters and also plans for a winter trip to Costa Rica. Where the sun might be shining in February. My youngest came in the late afternoon, determined to swim. I wanted a nap and took one. Then, she was going and I thought, I will go and watch her swim, but I won’t swim. Then, of course, even though it felt cool and was completely overcast, once on the dock, watching her head off, I couldn’t resist, and I went for a swim. The water was the perfect temperature, and I felt terrific. She did a big swim and I waited for her and felt very proud of her; she did a mile and a half! And I was so happy I swam after all. It changed my whole spirit about the day, of course. What a blessing that the water was so fresh and warm.