- It’s June and Massachusetts is lush and in bloom — past bloom, actually, and into that green place between spring’s first blossoms and the second wave of flowers that comes with July. I took a walk through the meadow next to the Fresh Pond Reservoir this week at dusk, and the air was alive with the sounds of birds singing and small animals rustling in the grass. The blue lupine punctuated the green with its hand-like leaves and its sentinel flowers, the yarrow had its lacy stories, and the clover was up to my shoulder.
- I didn’t even have to carry the air conditioner upstairs by myself this year — Army Guy did it for me with very little grumbling. I’ve got it in the living room window, which comes in handy on hot afternoons when I am working from home.
- While we’ve had some hot, close days, the evenings have been cool enough to sleep with fans.
- The beginning of this week was very difficult, but the love and support of my closest friends gave me the strength I needed to persevere in spite of those difficulties. On Wednesday morning I was feeling hopeless and useless, but by the end of the day I was almost back to my old self.
- Tonight I’m meeting up with two dear Circle Sisters for a picnic dinner before the Dyke March. While I have fond memories of Pride from years past, I’m still on the fence about marching at all this year. The crowds, the sun, the heat, the anticlimactic ending… it makes me feel old and un-hip. But the Dyke March, on a Friday evening, is always an event I enjoy attending. It feels more intimate and somehow more inclusive — for me, anyway. Plus, there’s an aerialist performing at one of the afterparties — I might actually set foot inside a club!
tended by poet Frances Donovan
Garden of Words 