#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Starling and Landon in the park

. . . The dry scent of a dying garden in September,
The wind fanning the ash of a low fire.
What I love is near at hand,
Always, in earth and air.

~ Theodore Roethke, The Far Field

First thing, to the butterfly garden, just in case I might find the monarch. There she is! On the ground, flapping her wings! She cannot fly, but she lives, she lives. I put my hand out, she steps on, I set her back on the cone flower. Time for my walk. The river is so full and overflowing, as is the brook. I think after this wet summer, the boundaries of the river and wetlands may be changed for good. Once again, I wade through the water to cross the brook in Rocky Narrows. It’s fresh and not deep. I have a morning of weeding and some planting ahead. My son sees me in the yard and tells me of the surprising thing that happened to him yesterday in Jamaica Plain, at the pond, where he was on a date: this starling came and sat on his shoulder all of a sudden! I planted ferns and hosta, and cardinal flower, and finished weeding pretty much all of the areas I had wanted to weed this weekend. Frank repeatedly thanks me for all the yard work I’ve done all summer. Today is so pleasant with the hot sun on my shoulders, and the September breeze, and I am so happy to be outdoors. Frank mows the front and back lawn, and then, this last holiday of summer, we sit in the sun in the yard and enjoy the afternoon.