#NewThisDay Writing Writing From My Photo Stream

Sunset, From King Philip’s Overlook, Rocky Narrows

I help my grandson out the door and dash for my swim. I want to have my mile before my Wednesday morning writers arrive, and I do. It’s very satisfying. And so is my writing group. I love what happens in a writing group, getting to the writing, sharing the writing, and discovering how the writing will grow. It’s cooler today. When I’m done with my day, I go downstairs to find my grandson.

“Do you want to go for a hike?” he asks.

“Yes, that’s exactly what I want!” I clap my hands loudly, it’s a done deal, and he claps too. We find our shoes and jackets and we’re off. The afternoon light is low. We discuss the absence of leaves on trees, they are on the ground, and we are walking on a multitude of them. This is a cycle, and we discuss how the snow and ice will come. And then the melt and new leaves and summer and blackberries. Never enough blackberries, and it’s hard to wait for them to come back. Because our hikes that involved blackberry picking in these woods were so memorable and juicy and satisfying. And it’s a long time until they return. And why, he wonders, did the deer eat so many? Because they have no money, I say, and they cannot get them at the store. Sharing the blackberries with the deer is a challenge. We hike up the steep hill and continue on to King Philip’s Overlook and watch the sunset and play camping with a fire and hot chocolate and marshmellows. And then I pack all these imaginary items into his imaginary backpack, and he climbs on my back, and I pack him a good portion of the rest of the way home as the light goes, and the lights of the house come on, and for the first time, he sees our own house from the trail, because it’s dark early, and there’s a light on.

“That’s our house!” he says, and we turn down the trail to our yard.