Beautiful Monday morning in autumn here, guineafowl running around the garden leaving tracks in the dew. Had a session yesterday evening with my writers’ group (some of whom actually write!) and we each wrote 500 words and then critted the writing (kindly but truthfully). Then ate bowls of lentil soup and talked about the Big Novel That Got Away.
The bronze fennel is running to seed, the fine grassy seeds are flying back and forth, the mousebirds carry away elderberries thick with tiny seeds. As if by chance I come in from the flyaway wind-blown garden and find this poem by Californian poet Peter Everwine:
Back from the Fields
Until nightfall my son ran in the fields,
Now I find them:
It’s been a good day.
Unable to find a credit for the guineafowl artist –