Early walk instead of swim. Walking by the river I spot the beaver––swimming quite fast near shore. Finishing his night. And then I bump into Mr. Mallard standing in the middle of a pile of leaves––and the brown Mrs. Mallard right near him. They are looking for their nesting place for the spring. Charlie barked and they flew up and over the trees and back to the safety of the brook. No time for poetry today; a hair appointment and I picked Wave up from school and we spent the afternoon together playing happily. Pickle tonight, and dinner of Thai take-out with all of us at home and my nephew and his wife, around the table near the fire. Cold in the bones today. Sun never came out. I am still reading the Carver biography in hard cover, and listening to Eudora Welty’s Delta Wedding which I somehow have never read and I’m very much enjoying it.