I blogged, researched, read email. Found one post about a funeral, well done but not what I needed to read at the moment. I sighed like every five minutes, not motivated in the least to write. Twitter was dead and Facebook inactive due to the holiday weekend. Double sigh.
A wasp buzzed past me, probably slipped in with the kids going in and out. He bumped the windows, wanting out. So I opened the window. He flew further back into the room, afraid, so I left the window open.
Oh, what a change.
I heard a mallard pair come up from the lake, arguing with each other as they sought the remnants scattered on the ground under my bird feeders. A breeze began, and the smell was heavenly. Memories rushed in of sleeping on my grandmother's four-poster bed on her farm, taking my afternoon nap in my underwear as a six-year-old. A female cardinal beckoned to her guy, who promptly joined her.
The wasp found his way out, and a stronger breeze came in as a steel blue cloud blocked the sun. A soft, gentle rain hit the lake and my sloping lawn with a hushed, whispering, ozone-scented shower, and the tree frogs sang in ecstasy in a rising crescendo.
I smiled. My mood shifted. All I needed was a change of atmosphere.
Sometimes you don't need a retreat, a grant to get away, or a critique group at the library. Sometimes you don't need to escape. Maybe you need a quick, soft rainfall to distract you, sprout old memories, and release you from the moody box you're in.
Flip open an old favorite book and smell the pages. Cook up cinnamon and apple juice in the kitchen to remind you of cheerful holidays. Cut the grass. Light a candle. Set a new lamp on your desk to alter the lighting. Play background music from a certain, special era.
Yes, sometimes all it takes is to open a window . . . and you can write.
(What might stimulate your writing?)
12 comments:
You write beautifully! I could really hear, feel and smell the rain. Thanks!
Sometimes it's a line from a song. This morning I heard the song (is the title "Say What You Need to Say" by John Mayer?) while driving.
The line I loved was "Walking like a one-man army..."
Other times, it's a conversation with other writers. Their ideas jog my memory.
What a gentle and lovely essay this morning...every word so true too! Have a great day!
Thanks, y'all.
Thanks for the transportation to another world :)
Beautifully written. Wonderfully true. I think I'll take the laptop to the porch for a while.
I don't know why, but I like to lie on the floor and stare at the ceiling when I'm blocked. It seems to work.
Most of the time I have to write with earplugs in or with my iPod playing classical music--my neighborhood is often so noisy that concentration can't happen any other way.
On the other hand, not relying on the crutch of stopping up my ears when it's quiet can often bring out a flood of prose, if the neighborhood calms down for an hour or so. :)
I thoroughly enjoyed taking a mini vacation into your writing this morning. Your home sounds wonderfully inspiring. Perhaps you should start a bed and breakfast for wayward writers on the side in your nonexistent free time. Have a glorious weekend!
So happy people enjoyed this post. It was a special moment.
Loved this post. Very nice writing. You painted a picture in words so eloquently. Susan
I had just hung up the phone talking with a friend from grade schoolabout the wonderful life we had as children those many years ago when I came across your essay. I was instantly transported back to the time we had just talked about. Life was simple. Laying back in the grass, watching clouds was a form of entertainment.
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