“...those of us who write for children are called, not to do something to a child, but be someone for a child.”
― Katherine Paterson

. . . And so I appeal to a voice, to something shadowy,
a remote important region in all who talk:
though we could fool each other, we should consider--
lest the parade of our mutual life get lost in the dark.

For it is important that awake people be awake,
or a breaking line may discourage them back to sleep;
the signals we give--yes or no, or maybe--
should be clear: the darkness around us is deep.

Excerpt from “A Ritual To Read to Each Other, by William Stafford

An early swim at the pool under a cloudy sky. But very satisfying. Then, Charlie & Suzi got a short walk in the summery woods as they day heated up. Packing and getting house in order. Departing. Flight canceled after boarding due to bad weather in NYC. Oh, well. Re-booked, we depart tomorrow if all goes well. Back home to the river and the beautiful yard and a dinner I didn’t have to cook with everyone on the deck. A walk with my son after dinner in the soft air. Talking about our work, and the need for the work we do in the world right now. He is hoping to train in equine therapy and talks of volunteering in a program that supports grieving children. My daughter, the one who is a parent, is particularly raw about the Texas massacre. I want to just keep doing my work in the world to create places where people can express what’s in their hearts and minds and connect with their creativity and nourish their spirit. I had a phone call this morning asking me to facilitate a writing workshop. And, I went rabbit hunting, a favorite daily activity with the Special One. We hush. We go quietly as we can into the morning yard and look in all the garden and grassy places where the bunny might be, just so that we can have the pleasure of seeing a white tail hop away into the brush at the edge of the yard.