#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Boulder at the Brook

Oh, you know, you realize that grief is perhaps the last and final translation of love. And I think, you know, this is the last act of loving someone. And you realize that it will never end. You get to do this to translate this last act of love for the rest of your life.

Ocean Vuong, From a Fresh Air Interview with Tonya Mosley

Early awake. I’m glad for the rain. I take a long walk, and it has stopped raining but all the trees are drippy and the floor of the woods is wet and the brook is running fast. I love the way the boulders and rocks light up on rainy days. I listen to a fascinating and moving interview of the writer Ocean Vuong on Fresh Air Podcast with guest interviewer Tonya Mosley about his newest book, "Time Is A Mother." Gorgeous experience with him. He is so emotional throughout the interview, crying, or near crying at times. Exquisite. A wonderful warm-up to leading my Charles River Writers. I go in to get ready. Preparation on two levels: the group will be half in person and half on Zoom! So, I use Frank’s office and his huge computer screen, and make coffee and set up chairs. It works quite well, actually, particularly because the screen brings the faces of the online participants right into the room. And I am able to move the camera as needed while people in person are speaking. The writing is deep and beautiful, as is the sharing. After dinner, the house is quiet and it’s still light out, at 7 p.m., which surprises me. I decide to go out again and Charlie is pleased. It’s nearing dusk; I know it will be dark when I return. Its’s so quiet. Some geese pass above me honking. There is a damp chilly air; my cheeks absorb it, pleasantly, like a sponge. I feel the energy of awakening all around me—the coming of bloom.