#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Some loud crying, some upset––a desire for juice, not water. This upset lasts. I have an idea. It’s early, and I have already decided I will walk, not swim today. I sense this is the right thing to do for my body. I ask my daughter if she thinks the boy who wants juice instead of water might want to go on a hike to Rocky Narrows with me? She thinks not––but I should go ahead and ask. In fact, he does want to, and tells her so, before he is even able to stop crying. By the time we are quickly out the door, his mood has changed entirely. He cannot find two boots to match, so he wears a pink rain boot with a brown cowboy boot, and we are out the door. I take him in the wagon for part of the way, and Charlie follows. We snack on some wild blueberries as we climb the hill to King Philip’s Overlook. I teach him about months: July is the month for blueberries; August is the month for blackberries. Then we are at King Philips and he eats his breakfast snack while we gaze down at the meadow and over the Charles. I teach him about evergreens, how they stay green in the winter. Ever green. “Ever means forever, right?” Yes. He wants a piggy back ride down the hill, so I carry him to the wagon we’ve left parked at the railroad tracks. This is a most cheerful morning now. Then, I am off to lead three groups, my busy day, all of them deep and powerful. Tonight, a storm threatens, again, second night in a row. Charlie is restless, defensive, worried. But no storm comes. I water the gardens, front and back as the sun goes down. No storm comes.