October 7-13, 2018.
It was Indian Summer this week—all the beauty of changing leaves, but with tempatures in the high 60s. So lots of time was spent working in the hammock! The great thing about being a poet is that you take your craft with you wherever you go, with no extra equipment beyond pen and paper.
Here are some signs of a poet at work:
laying around with eyes closed;
walking around with a faraway look in the eye;
sitting pensively, chewing the end of a pen.
So what better place to be a poet hard at work than here at Trail Wood? There’s so much poetry here, just waiting to be unearthed. I’ve seen migrating monarch butterflies; heard an owl in the night; and yesterday evening watched a white-tailed deer eat windfall pears down by the stone wall. Such beauty.
This has been a magical week. It’s so easy to connect here, to all the things that really matter to me: creativity, quiet observation, the history of our state and how people have lived here. What a gift!…I’ll be carrying this with me for a long time to come.