Thursday, April 1, 2021

Another dark and rainy morning; and behind the night curtain, buds are swelling and seeds are splitting and grass is greening. I am eager to see it all.

Today is the first of April, and it's opening day for the Red Sox at Fenway, and I am half-vaccinated and making plans for the future. Remember last April 1? Remember how bleak our world was?

This is what I wrote that day:

My thoughts will be brushing, again and again, against the final lines of Rilke's "Archaic Torso of Apollo":

                                           For there is no place
that does not see you. You must change your life.

On this year's morning I have to edit, and this afternoon I have to teach, so my outdoor play will be limited. I should say that I'm assuming I have to teach, though last week's class was suddenly canceled 45 minutes before it was supposed to begin. Sigh.

In between times I'll read my Murdoch novel, and I'll make a grocery list for our Greek Easter extravaganza, and I'll do my core exercises, and I'll wash a load of laundry, and I'll figure out something or other to cook for dinner (roasted Brussel sprouts plus ?), and I'll call my parents, and I'll think about those Rilke lines. Because, yes.

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