Poem for Tuesday and Larsen Lake Park

Picking Blueberries, Austerlitz, New York, 1957
By Mary Oliver

Once, in summer
in the blueberries,
I fell asleep, and woke
when a deer stumbled against me.

I guess
she was so busy with her own happiness
she had grown careless
and was just wandering along

listening
to the wind as she leaned down
to lip up the sweetness.
So, there we were

with nothing between us
but a few leaves, and wind’s
glossy voice
shouting instructions.

The deer
backed away finally
and flung up her white tail
and went floating off toward the trees -

but the moment she did that
was so wide and so deep
it has lasted to this day;
I have only to think of her -

the flower of her amazement
and the stalled breath of her curiosity,
and even the damp touch of her solicitude
before she took flight -

to be absent again from this world
and alive, again, in another
for thirty years
sleepy and amazed,

rising out of the rough weeds
listening and looking.
Beautiful girl,
where are you?

-------- 

On Tuesday morning, the notary for the settlement company arrived so that we could sign the papers for the closing on our house, which will belong to another family as of Friday. So that is exciting and a little strange after 28 years! We ate bagels, then in the afternoon, my Voyager group watched episode five of season three of Picard together. Then we went to Trader Joe's to get pita and some other things. 

The reason for the shopping trip is that we had dinner with Adam and Katherine, who had offered to cook for us when we offered to bring over blueberry pie. They made veggie kabobs and we discussed plans for upcoming baseball and Taylor Swift weekends, all of which was lovely. Now we're watching Pirates of the Caribbean: At World's End and Elizabeth is still a pirate king. Larsen Lake Park, the blueberry farm: