I hear you, friend.
Send that letter.
If you don’t believe in yourself today, I’m your Great Aunt and *I’ll* believe in you for you.
Category: Morning Meander
I walk the dogs and write raw poetry. Won’t you join me?
July 17th, 2020
It’s not cold, but it’s damp and cool enough for a shawl,
a multi-colored shawl which was a beautiful, thoughtful gift,
long and wide and silky enough to use for a headscarf when that’s what’s needed.
Thunderstorms have been brewing, but they have not really covered us in glorious power yet this week, I would like that, some glorious thunderstorm power.
13 July
Thick air, steep path, woolen socks
when I long to be barefoot, but that would go badly.
We went further than we did yesterday
— a lot further —
and now there’s coffee.
July 9th, 2020
I am exactly where I should be.
July 3d
I didn’t want to turn on the light this morning.
The shade of cool grey out there is absolutely perfect,
some amalgam of cloud and fog
and a drizzle threatened, but not until later,
and the light is filtered into a gentle, cozy sort of daylight
that is not bold, but rather, kind.
June 29th
Thick air,
thick green,
thick branches,
assailed on morning walk by thickness.
Today will not be a clear broth, then, but a thick stew.
Better get out the sketchbook and the good pencils.
June 26th
Meadow grasses and some few flowers
Most of this summer profusion is green, green, green.
Two black dogs smell of sun in their fur.
June 25th
A wise woman reminded me to be grateful for my privilege and use it to do good.
June 23d, 2020
Air is thick unto choking with rain.
Woodpecker clearly does not care. He has bugs to catch!
The night dividing June 20 from June 21
Sun still,
Moon dark,
Let all things go.
June 17th
An absolutely perfect day –
I can see the snow on Mount Washington and think of my Dad skiing in the summer.
Some anxious thoughts follow on the heels of an unsettling dream:
am I doing enough to protect the innocent?
how can I let a monster into that particular story?
I will re-assert control over my world by organizing the August calendar;
August is sufficiently far away that it will not take offense at my trying to organize it.
June 15th
I have had Annual Coffee On The Dock With Cousin Carol.
The summer may begin.
11 June
