Something is transforming here, I can feel a change in the air. The fever continues in the PM hours, forcing me to slow down, which is uncomfortable but perhaps productive, or at least edifying. I feel inchoately emptied out and finished with phase one, whatever that was (moving in? nesting?) and ready for what is next. Part of this (hard to explain) means (don’t laugh please) starting to feel okay about stepping into, even touching, our environment here. I mean leaving off thinking of this forest, and this little meadow inside it, as a museum of endangered beauties (untrammeled grass, silence, smells), moving from a protective approach (a custodial stance, inherently anxious, that I must have absorbed through so much reading about nature while sitting in cities) to one that is more about pleasure and frankly, more forgiving. Go ahead, go see what is behind that segment of old wall, go pick some flowers for god’s sake. I have been rather awful about the girls’ picking the flowers. I am giving up, surrendering, in a way, and it feels kind of good. Better late than never, right?