#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Monarch Caterpillar on Milkweed

If my job were pollination,
I'd punch in early.
If my job were to walk
on soft petals and bump
the stamen of its fine gold
flour, if my job were to fly
in midday on my own wings
and leave a trail of sundust,
if this were my job,
I'd take no money, I'd give my time.
If this were my job I'd come home
to the honeycomb singing.
- Carl Adamshick, Work Dream

Awake early, early with Frank who is traveling. And I have work to catch up on. I stay in bed with coffee getting things done. Another day that starts quite cool and warms to a great heat in the late afternoon. Charlie and I walk this morning through the sunlit meadow with the milkweed blooming. It will be a fine year for monarchs. My day is framed by running groups, morning and evening––very satisfying. And I write a blog for the Journal of Expressive Writing and I prep for tomorrow’s Charles River Writers. This house has so many things going on in it. In moments of disruption to the changes going on in the house I breathe and trust all will be well as it usually is. All will get done. The clutter and disruption will be sorted. All is well. Truly. Summer is here. The air is so soft and inviting outdoors. Such a gentle season. Today, in the early evening, as I brought the Special One’s toys in from the yard, talking to Frank, I thanked him again for my Mother’s Day gift: the bird boxes he installed for me on the river’s edge. The bluebirds have moved in! The yard has become their habitat. And what is more cheerful on a summer day than a visit from a bluebird under a blue sky in the green grass looking for insects?