Spring bends toward summer. I can no longer count the small zucchinis stretching out beside orange blossoms. I water the garden in morning’s heat in bare feet, grounding myself with the earth. I’ve heard it’s good for body and spirit. Small white butterflies etch patterns in the air, never still enough to be observed.
Back inside I sit on the couch near a breakfast of eggs and apples, coffee and something chocolate. Email and Facebook shouldn’t be the first encounters, but often are. A writer writes. She also seeks an audience. This takes time. Lately I've spent my energies learning how one finds those who wish to read her words. I also get lost in other people’s stories, the tragic and beautiful, of friends and so many with whom I’ll likely never cross paths. Social media, in its infancy, is a force I have yet to manage well.
Writing consists, too, of the quiet I can wrap around all the other doing for which I’m responsible. Care for our sixteen-year-old cat and the three four-year-old felines who she’d rather avoid, managing children who are nearly grown but still need guidance, my part in a marriage I love after eighteen trips around the sun together, and so many errands.
Then there are precious moments when I lean, soul and mind, into the page, as I'm doing now.
Back inside I sit on the couch near a breakfast of eggs and apples, coffee and something chocolate. Email and Facebook shouldn’t be the first encounters, but often are. A writer writes. She also seeks an audience. This takes time. Lately I've spent my energies learning how one finds those who wish to read her words. I also get lost in other people’s stories, the tragic and beautiful, of friends and so many with whom I’ll likely never cross paths. Social media, in its infancy, is a force I have yet to manage well.
Writing consists, too, of the quiet I can wrap around all the other doing for which I’m responsible. Care for our sixteen-year-old cat and the three four-year-old felines who she’d rather avoid, managing children who are nearly grown but still need guidance, my part in a marriage I love after eighteen trips around the sun together, and so many errands.
Then there are precious moments when I lean, soul and mind, into the page, as I'm doing now.