Wake later than usual. Run into my son downstairs in the quiet house who is looking after my daughter’s cat. He wonders if Charlie and I would like him to join us for our walk. Certainly! We take a long one and have so much to talk about. The foliage is bright here and there. We talk so much I hardly notice all the trees we are passing. He tells me about his current passions and creative endeavors, and I share mine. We have a lovely meeting of the mind and heart in these morning woods. Afterwards, I cannot resist a trip to Farm Pond. My friend Po, whom I saw over the weekend shared that she has been going to the pond every day for a quick dip. I drive there, wondering if I will actually go in. The sky is partly cloudy and it’s only 56 degrees. I park and walk up to the beach, still wondering what I’ll do. And, of course I go in. It’s icy on my arms and legs, but my core is warm. I have my cap on, and this stores heat too. There are a few fishermen on the pond, not a single goose. It’s lovely, and I stay in for a dozen minutes or so having a nice rhythmic swim. It’s slow going: the whole body slows down, but I am enjoying myself. And glad I went in. Warm up in a hot shower and I carry the energy with me all day. Three years ago tonight we were driving into Boston to the hospital for my grandson to be born. At dinner we all revisit the story for him. There are cupcakes from Nirvana that were brought as treat last night from Ed. The whole day is delicious, beginning to end.