We had such a plain and lovely day yesterday . . . an early breakfast, and then an early walk in the Laudholm Farm wildlife refuge--salt marshes, red maple swamps, and a long stretch of Atlantic beach. The sky was a busy swirl of shape and color; the breakers rolled in. Everywhere we saw life: an eagle, an osprey, a clutter of plovers racing along the edge of the surf. Terns and gulls, a huddle of black ducks, and a pair of pileated woodpeckers tearing up a dead tree. A flock of eiders coasting the waves and one handsome harbor seal flaunting his whiskers, as curious about us as we were about him.

And then the drive home, the quiet this-n-that day, both of us mostly in our workrooms but back and forth for conversations, then lighting the stove in the late afternoon, drinking a beer, playing cribbage, and then I adjourned to the kitchen to make clean-out-the-freezer risotto: chicken, maitake mushrooms, chard from the garden, lots of garlic and fresh broth, alongside roasted cabbage and a carrot and radish slaw.

These are the kinds of days that are a friendship. Two people ambling companionably through the hours. It is not what I thought a love affair would be, when I was eighteen. Still, the flame burns clear and bright, under its hurricane glass.

* * *

One of the things I worked on yesterday afternoon was the announcement of two upcoming poetry classes. I think I mentioned, a few months ago, that Maudelle, Teresa, and I were planning to restart some online programming under the aegis of The Poetry Kitchen. That website is still under construction, but I've temporarily created a tab for it on this blog.

I'll be offering two Zoom classes this spring: "Structure and Song" is a version of the introductory manuscript class I've taught many times before that will meet on three Sunday afternoons in May ($200). "From Draft to Dream" is a day-long revision class ($75). I hope you'll consider joining me. I know Zoom is no one's favorite medium, but I've figured out some ways to make it palatable, and it certainly eases the difficulties of distance.