#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Monday, a melancholy in the air; August almost over. The skies cleared and all was very wet. I put on long sleeved pants and shirt and garden gloves and attacked a weed-choked garden. I pulled and pulled and pulled the weeds and grasses, freeing the day lilies and the bee balm and the roses and cone flower and so much more. There is poison ivy in this garden and I was very careful. Soaked and muddy, it was done. I felt the sadness of my friend’s departure. And, in the afternoon, I bought plants for this weeded garden: some new blooms for fall. Swam, a good swim, at my friend’s dock, to the pump house and back. The sun was still out and I felt it on my face. Lots of memories of our time together surfaced as I swam: what I’ll miss the most. I went home and planted my new plants and it started to rain. The rain is heavy now and it’s quite dark. It will rain all night. She will empty her boathouse, latch this door. A new one will open.