On the first Mother’s Day I have spent alone in some 30 years of mothering, I took a long morning walk to the spring-fed turquoise waters of Calanques de Cassis.
then spent several hours writing. Mes enfants me manquent, I miss my kids, my mind and my body whispered. So I replied, “Yes. But I adore being alone in this quiet fishing village, in residence with myself.”
Life at The Camargo Foundation was above all quite and private: womblike. A week into my month-long Bread Loaf Bakeless Camargo Residency, I wrote on being away by myself in a beautiful place–a Mother’s Day article for my local newspaper, where I write an occasional column “On Poetry.”
In the article, I included two poems that speak from a mother’s perspective, one by Camargo fellow Bonnie Bolling, who has four boys; and the other poem about having breakfast en plein air …
I about fell out of my chair
when I took a second look at the subject line of the email I thought was yet another “Thank you & I am sorry to convey” message. I had been working on my Sunday poem at the Winter Poetry & Prose Getaway, from a prompt that required me to crossbreed an urban legend of my choice with an angel. I am not crazy about either affiliate. Checking out the etymology of avocado at OED.com is such a good excuse for getting online, until it turns into a good excuse for checking my inbox. I skipped over the Bread Loaf Bakeless message, thinking, “I don’t need bad news while I’m here…”
But the second time I needed the OED, I noticed the caboose of that Bread Loaf email’s subject line. The fellowship’s title is so lengthy, the words “Acceptance Notification” ran off the …