On Writing...

I have been inside a lot lately.  The hours just fly by, I so love what I'm doing.  Still, you cannot write in a vacuum.  Periodically you must go outside and live in order to have something to write about.  The past is always there; this is true.  But a past without a present will start to diminish.  This balance is hard for me, for I tend to be single-minded and focused to the extreme.  Either I'm doing nothing but writing, or I'm writing nothing at all.  Fortunately I have a dog.  He loves his walks and I must oblige.  So while he sleeps at my feet as I write, he also forces me to get out in the world and enjoy the changing seasons. I hate being pulled away from my desk, but once outside I'm astonished by all that's going on.  I talk to neighbors.  I watch the wind through the trees.  I get annoyed at a car driving too fast or my dog for trying to chase the car.  I see the birds flocking south and can smell rain in the air.  I gather my coat around me as the wind permeates my layers and remember how lucky I am to have a warm house to return to.  When I finally do sit down at my desk again, I am eager to write.  And all that sensory imagery from the walk helps my words grow.  I am a reluctant but appreciate gardener.