I dig this concept, writing about something that delights you every day for a year. Here are the best-of scratchings/musings from Ross Gay, in my first read from him. He conducts it August to August, bookended by his birth date. I think I'll do the same this September.

The book was catalyzed by the pandemic in part, and most all of us warm-blooded folk found beauty and comfort in the mundane and the natural during quarantine and beyond. I know I found myself staring at some flora and fauna, on neighborhood and cemetery walks; I know that's hardly just me.

Some installments here are merely pleasant, ephemeral notes on this or that, though some ("Reading Palms") harbor delicious twists. What resonated most for me here are Gay's takes on nature (a praying mantis eating the head of a dragonfly, plus POV stuff on bees, crows, fireflies, etc.) and pop culture (the "That's some Bambi shit" entry, and morsels about Lisa Loeb, Donny Hathaway). There's poignancy as he walks American cities and notes how many statues of early-democracy figures depict them holding guns, and how many have had flowers also placed in their stony palms.

Gay delivers a great take on live poetry readings, and funny enough, I'm hotly anticipating taking in his own in February. My first since a David Sedaris reading in a grand hall a few years ago. So ready.