#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

. . . He throws off
artifacts as he
contracts and expands the
muscle of his being,
ringed in himself,
tilling. He
is homage to
earth, aerates
the ground of his living.

~ Excerpt from “The Earth Worm,” Denise Levertov

There is sun, and still some ice in the wetlands. I have woken early, slept well, but my body says, walk. And so instead of swimming, I take a long hike with Charlie in the cold morning under a blue sky. I have a busy day ahead; poetry workshop and then finishing the press kit which is taking a lot of my energy. Later, in the afternoon, when it is done, a trip to the grocery story feels like a vacation. To stretch away from the detailed, highly focused work on the computer. Buying good things for the family to eat. Letting my mind go blank. And then, my hands digging in earth of the yard. I have time outdoors with the special one. We are digging in the dead, soggy leaves, leftovers, pushed in a pile by the plow: a treasure place to find earthworms. And so many, we find them, one after another, curling energy of the soil. Into the pail. Into the pail, these friends, with some company of pine needles and a plop of soil. We take them to the garden and let them into last year’s vegetable boxes to writhe and dig and aerate. We are tender and careful with their squirming liveliness. Then, I make dinner, and we sit at the round table, and after dinner I collapse on the couch for a much needed nap