. . . And this I tried to understand
As I scrubbed the rust from my brightening plow:
The movement of seed in furrowed earth,
And a blackbird whistling sweet and clear
From a green-sprayed bough.

Excertp from “In April,” by James Hearst

Early up to swim and get on the road to Connecticut. A wonderful swim. No time to walk Charlie. Left it to others. No picture today; for the second day I rely on making a collage. I drove to pick up my aunt in Avon and we drove to UConn Hospital where my uncle is so they could see each other. Lots of time to be with my aunt and talk things over. She is a true delight to spend time with. Always finding a way to laugh and express affection and gratitude. As well as my uncle. He was sitting up in a chair and cold. I was able to get him warm blankets from a nurse and we visited and stayed for his lunch, which he ate, and they were so sweet to each other and I asked lots of questions about golf and his lifetime playing, caddying as a boy, and playing various courses with my father. It was very satisfying to all of us. Drove my aunt back and then home for dinner and a movie with Frank. Finally watched Oppenheimer and really really was quite absorbed and fascinated and moved by this movie. Quiet house, a rarity. Time for the two of us relaxing in an empty house with a movie on and two dogs at our feet. The trees and shrubs have blossoms and the grass is greening and I am grateful for this day.