#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Excerpt from “The Bluebird,” by John Burroughs

Me, with a passenger, and the blooming landscape, a long ramble. Some of the trails un-passable from wetlands overflowing. So April. And I walked to the long strip of trail along the Charles where the Trustees of Reservations has put so many wonderful bird boxes at the water’s edge. A bluebird on the lichened box, a stunning sign of welcome back. The day given to the Special One, home for the day. And the finding of enough minutes of quiet to revise last week’s poem to take to workshop tonight. I am surprised that I can do it even with distractions. Happy to get to Monday night workshop even though I have my cold and a cracking headache.