Autumn wind chases in
From all directions
And a thousand chaste leaves
Give way.

Scatter in me the seeds
Of a thousand saplings.
Let grow a grassy heaven.
On my brow: a sun. . .

Excerpt from “Nature Aria,” by Yi Lei, translated by Tracy K. Smith and Changtai Bi

The weather brings rain, wonderful rain. This will not end the drought. But it freshens the plants, reduces the strain. The air is damp, humid. Charlie and I walk to the river, calm, flat. I have my Ukrainian support group. We have a substitute translator. My prompt works well. It’s good to be together. Tomorrow is Ukrainian Independence Day. Tension is high, the news says. One of the things that works so well in this group is the art prompts. Pictures, a universal language. Almost all of our sessions involve drawing/painting. In the afternoon today, I hope to swim. But there is a threat of thunderstorms and that’s not wise. But my son asks who is available for a forest bathing session he wants to lead as part of his course. My youngest and I volunteer for the 20-minute session and follow him across the field to the grassy place by the river. He leads us through a sensory awakening experience. What stands out to me is the soft, inviting warmth of the earth in my bare feet. And the rumble of thunder in the distance, promising rain. The rain wants to come. This session is nice refreshment from indoors, the carpentry, the construction, the unfinished in process nature of it all. So many parts of the project unfinished. And the pleasure of progress. I control what I can: laundry and dishes and finishing unpacking all the last bundles and food shopping and fridge cleaning and recycling. Charlie misses the sea. Neither of us gets the swim we want today. But the forest bathing, that serves the need.