#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Kapok blossom in morning puddle

The delicious early morning starlit sky at 5 am when I am the first one awake. But not for long. Warmth and a very slight breeze. Coffee. Quiet. Then the sunrise and the orange sky over the blue pacific. Our walk to the beach. This morning, horses grazing in a field we pass. And we have gotten a slightly late start, so I don’t linger long on a swim. Returning for a morning poetry group, and I just make it home in time, and it’s worth it to have rushed, the time is well spent. I bring a poem that is fairly new and I get some very helpful feedback; I know this poem will take me some time to write just right. It’s slowly advancing. I am patient with it. In the late afternoon Frank and I go with our friends to the beach for our sunset swim. The beach is a church of spectators gathering to observe the holy sunset. The couples, the surfers, the pot smokers, the parents, the babies, the surfer children, the tourists, the yogis, the dogs of all shapes and sizes. Us. Frank swims with me. We have hardly seen each other today! Then I take a meandering quiet walk and select some shells to bring home for the special one. It’s a humming and meditative practice for me. The massive orange ball dips lower and lower and I return to Frank and my friend and I dive into the sundowning water, the frothy white, the heaving surf, and the sun shoots flames of orange on the surface, the air is so perfectly soft, and the water the same warm temperature as the air and the low clouds are purpling above the sea and we play in the lilac bath, the lavender colored water swirling and engulfing our bodies. The orange dips out of sight and the lilac water goes darker, a charcoal, and still we don’t rise yet out of the sea. It’s a slow, slow decision to wade out of the bliss.