#NewThisDay Writing From My Photo Stream

Slept hard and delicious, waking naturally, no alarm, yet early. I take my time, coffee. Frank left early. I will have writing time today. Instinctively, I know I will walk. A long one, and I do. It’s overcast, slightly cool. Very quiet along the river. The heron, of course. The ducks quacking. The woodpeckers. And a friend’s voice over the phone, a long chat. Spring appearing slowly. The skunk cabbage, a favorite. It’s in the wetlands and brooks. Ripe. I keep walking, smelling, listening, looking, feeling refreshed. Noticing what’s coming alive. Walking along the Charles I notice a huge tree chewed and felled, fallen into the river by a beaver. Then, I notice the Trustees have fenced all the other large hardwoods to protect them from the beaver’s tough teeth. I walk for about six miles having a very happy morning. In the afternoon I write a little. Revise a poem. Start a new one. Enjoying the unscheduled time. We are happy to stay home, the quiet house. The rain. The rest. Even the laundry is a pleasant chore.