May 19, 2020

helpful resources in a time of uncertainty **

The scatter at the cove, a thick weave of tide and shell and stone and slippery logs.
Dandelions, waking slowly into the day, petals like eyelids. The pink door 
of an old house. Salt on your lips, soil under your nails, the anthill you almost disturb.
Bumblebees alighting on blossom. A stillness into which a tidy cloud of gnats enters.
Ladybugs clustered on a second-floor windowpane. The woman who delivers the mail,
sliding packages onto your porch. Apples, sliced into fourths. The wine a neighbor pours,
the color of farm eggshells. Early light arrowing into a bedroom. The return of night frogs.
Dust pyramids at the corners of a closet and hanger bearing the weight of two 
winter coats. The creak of Adirondacks after rain. Page 746 of The Joy of Cooking. Lined 
paper. The clockwork of Tuesdays. The words “I don’t know” and “I’m doing what I can.”

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** I am borrowing this title from a daily newsletter sent by author and writing facilitator Laura Davis, whose works include The Courage to Heal and I Thought We’d Never Speak Again.