In the same way that photographers and painters prefer the light of morning and afternoon, I find those to be times I am drawn to writing.
In the morning light breaks into the garden and invites close exploration.
I don't take many photographs while I am working...but the monologue is running.
When evening approaches the horizon calls...day is done. What have I done with it? Do I have more energy to focus...
reflections come...accomplishments are reviewed, tired muscles talk, hunger surfaces. The glory of the day settles as sun and color melt away into night.
Time needs honoring, or the day's creative opportunities slip away..
There is morning and evening and the long full day in between them.
3 comments:
I was told yesterday the beautiful view to the West will be showing signs of the debris field from Japan in three years.
Beautiful pictures of an idyllic area. Thanks for sharing.
Yes John, it is a small world after all. Anything can wash up anytime. Cargo containers are often lost at sea and the economics of retrieving rather than receiving insurance do not calculate in the damage done to environs or the sea's inhabitants. Yesterday a man told me he doesn't want to to eat fish now for fear of "glowing in the dark." It is far fetched and yet...it's a small world after all.
My life's in such a jumble that I have to write at any odd moment I can. Evenings are preferred, though. Beautiful photos, incidentally.
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