#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Watermelon in my garden

The promised rain, last night, did not materialize. I went straight to the garden this morning under the overcast sky. Brought my big basket. So much to pick: tomatoes galore, all sizes and shapes. Sadly, I miscalculated, left my first big heirloom tomato on the vine too long, waiting for it to ripen red. It softened to mush without moving beyond blush. No worries. It’s all experiment, it’s all low risk, high reward out here in these rows. My watermelons are quite promising, and my pumpkin patch, and the cucumbers have staged a comeback. And the sweet potatoes too! I know nothing about what these sweet potatoes are doing undergound, but, above ground, they are leafy and green and thriving. Tonight is pizza night. Basil harvest. A short walk in woods around our property, and I find this balloon. Not local. Very much out of its territory, which, I discover through google, is Levittown, New York! Indoors, I finish the blurb for my friend’s poetry book and send that off, happily. Revise a poem for tonight. In the late afternoon, my daughter and I take a bike ride up Hospital Road and riding through the old Medfield State Hospital property, now owned by Medfield, I find, to my surprise, someone has planted a wonderful sunflower garden with pumpkins and tomatoes, and to water it, they are collecting rainwater. I wanted to get a good picture, but couldn’t. Next time. And home, down the steep hill, in the hazy late afternoon, past the meadow of colors, goldenrod and purple loostrife and creamy queen Anne’s lace. Pizza night. Roasted tomatoes from my garden, basil from my garden. My best. My best.

Traveler from Levittown, NY, found in my woods

Pumpkin Patch