#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Milk Weed in the Meadow

I set my alarm for the same wake up time as Nosara: 5:10, and rise when the alarm sounds. It feels like the right time to me, even here, where I do not have a view of the sea and don’t walk out into the morning under the stars before the sun rises. But, from the window, I spied right on the front lawn, eating and eating––what?––to their hearts’ content, two brown bunnies. I swam early, my good laps. Then walked with Charlie to the river and into Rocky Narrows. The swans are back, a lovely stillness, and not very cold. Writing here tonight they seem like images of my day: bookended by a poetry workshop this morning, and one tonight. And such pleasure in between; time with the special one, indoors and out. I show him the bunny pellets. I show him the deer pellets. I tell him the deer are trying to eat my rhododendrons and we must have Charlie scare them away. A pretty remarkable spontaneous thing happened at dinner around our table by the fire: all three kids together with me and Frank. We are welcomed back. We are home.