July 2: Dog Day, Working Poet Day, Watermelon Day

It is a dog day of summer.  Over ninety degrees.  Humid.  I'm not quite sure what a "dog day" is.  I think it has something to do with the fact that it's so hot that even dogs just head for the shade, or it could be a reference to the fact that it's so hot that everybody walks around with their tongues hanging out, like dogs.  Whatever the origin of that phrase, it's freaking hot outside.

One byproduct of participating in the writing panel last night is an impulse to work on my poetry.  Having a group of people listening to me, telling me they like my poems, motivates me a great deal.  Writing, for the most part, is a pretty lonely avocation.  It requires a certain solitude of mind and heart.  Whether I'm writing in a noisy business office or on the shores of Lake Superior, I need to isolate myself, physically or mentally or spiritually.  However, when I stand in front of an audience, when I see how my words effect people, that makes me take up pen and paper.  It reminds me of why I write poetry.  It's about connection, of being part of the human experience.  Today is also a working poet day.

Looks good to me

Finally, today is a watermelon day.  It's a hot dog and corn on the cob day.  It's a summer vacation day.  A kids under the sprinkler day.  A get in your car and roll down the windows day.  A water balloon day.  A vanilla malt day.  It's a day that slows you down, makes you think about the necessity of every movement you make.  A day when breathing makes you sweat.

Saint Marty is ready to face the heat.