Every Day Is a Poem
that each of us
can write anew
nodding to memory
while inching
ahead
towards tomorrow.
— Susan Eyre Coppock
(inscribed on a sidewalk in Newton, MA)
The best time of the year is almost upon us again here in the Bay State - a season of glorious endings and new beginnings, ephemeral colors and stark beauty, cooling weather and longer nights. I’m running into it headlong - quite literally, hitting the pavement in the darkness of early morning and running upwards of twenty miles weekly along the Emerald Necklace. The days and their attendant personal and professional responsibilities seem to be sprinting by, in a blur. I’m practicing meditation, learning about field naturalism, working on a novel. I’m gearing up for a slate of fall photography in Colorado, New Hampshire, and Western Mass, and further travels planned with Jordan to Rhode Island and California before end-of-year. Keeping things as orderly and energized as I can at work. And somewhere in there, trying to be a dad to an increasingly willful toddler whose personality and emotions are currently outrunning his ability to express or process them in either of his native languages.
Late last month, after startling awake from a recurring work-related dream (read: illness and death), I turned on my laptop on an early weekend morning and wrote a narrative piece about how my career has changed my outlook on my life and its purpose. Above all, there’s a certain awareness of mortality that permeates everything I experience these days - not in a grimdark sort of way, but in an expansive, peaceful way. In such a way that I feel filled with more love and energy than I know how to give - simultaneously more accepting of my place in the world, and more determined to be deserving of it. It’s a careful balance between the frenetic pace of doing and seeing and celebrating the world, trying my hardest to make each day count - and finding ways to slow down, take in my surroundings, and appreciate what I have before me: my health, my senses, friendships and relationships, and a world that is beautiful and wondrous precisely because of its imperfections. I’m finding it hard to be mindful about this balance without overthinking it; to care about the process without becoming overly attached to or forcefully detached from the outcome. I’m doing as best I can.
———
September 7, 2024: An early morning trip to Smolak Farms in North Andover, with Jane and Jordan. After we breakfast outside the farmstand (cider, donuts, coffee, and those amazing Farmhand Sandwiches!), Jordan explores in the petting zoo and children’s play area, bawking like a chicken and feeding the ducks. It’s a far cry from his first visit, nearly a year ago, when he was barely nine months old and strapped to Jane the entire time. We visit the apple orchard and Jordan picks his first apple: a tart Cortland that he devours all by himself. We return to Boston after a photo stop at nearby Field Pond in the Harold Parker State Forest. In the afternoon, we walk to the JP Music Festival above Jamaica Pond.
September 11, 2024: In what is becoming an annual tradition, I take a self-care day right before recruitment/interview season starts. This year, I take a morning walk through the suburbs and forests surrounding the Webster Conservation Area in Newton, where the first signs of fall are beginning to reveal themselves. Although it’s impressively sunny and far from ideal for woodland photography, I take my time on the stroll, carefully photographing the beautiful birch and beech trees that are the earliest harbingers of fall foliage. I end my walk in Newton Centre by browsing Newtonville Books and grabbing a burger and mango milkshake from nearby Lee’s Burgers. The afternoon is spent processing photos, exercising, and relaxing at home.
September 14, 2024: Returning to the Webster Woods in Newton to walk with Jordan and take some family portraits. Afterwards, we visit Picadilly Square, eat lunch, and do groceries.
September 21, 2024: A day out with the Mass Audubon’s Field Naturalist Certificate Program, looking for herps in the urban wilds south of the city.
September 22, 2024: A morning trip to Shelburne Farms in Stow, MA, where we enjoy fresh cider donuts with hot cider and hot chocolate.
