I am in the rather hermetic state of finishing a book. and packing. and trying to find a home.
There are days when i feel i would just like to write books forever and ever, it’s like being a kid and finding a great new play spot in the backyard. The ideas flood out like mudpies on a conveyor belt. There are also days when the ideas don’t come at all, and I ride home from the cafe, head down, tired and discouraged. You never know what kind of day it will be when creating. A good nights sleep changes everything. After a rough day I will say, “I’ll try again tomorrow.”
Writing that made me remember being at the cottage as a kid, my sister and I were explorers who lived in the woods. We had a base camp that had log chairs and a small earth table, and beds made out of pine needle piles. We lived off the land, foraged for food and explored the wilderness by day, taking hikes for several hours, climbing over creeks, scaling hills, making friends with horses in farmer’s fields. I always carried some kind of satchel with a bit of food and survival gear, kleenex, some kind of screwdriver (I’m not sure what for but I knew the great explorers all had “tools”), and a notebook. Eventually we would make our way back home to a lunch of baloney sandwiches and grape Quench.
My heart yearns for this today, (i feel excitement in my belly just remembering it). This must be why I love the woods so much, I still pretend that I live there and search for the most inviting places to sleep under cozy looking trees. Today I will take a break from the work and head to the woods for a few hours. Maybe you will see me napping on the pine needle floor.