The other day, a friend of mine, who has stuff on her mind, said she would go by herself to a whale watch on Sunday. It will revive my connection to the universe, she texted. I can relate. My ideal summer includes slow mornings, swims, walks, talks and reads. To that slate of activities, this year I added two weddings. Lots of fun, but. The labor intensive getting ready tasks can be a lot: shopping, packing, traveling - all the emotional intensity. There are limits to how long I can remain saturated by scintillation - I become a toddler again needing quiet time. Thankfully, the fog of overactivity has begun to lift and I’ve lately returned to woods walking - a favorite way for me to get myself back. Whenever I begin again after a lapse of days, the body complains. I start slowly, one heavy foot in front of the other. The route I chose the other day led to abandoned cranberry bogs. Gone are the years when I’d see the old box rakes and wooden crates once used to harvest berries. Now the...
A writer is someone for whom writing is more difficult than it is for other people. Thomas Mann