This morning, I watched the sun come up. The sky was clear for a change and the hues of the rising sun were rosy as the day began. I wanted to run outside and gather it all up and put it all in a box for safekeeping. Since I have come home to Redding, the weather has not been as pleasant as I remember. Unfortunately, this speaks to my habit of hoarding the good things. What am I to do with this?
Well, I write it all down. What else can I do with it? Writing is my way of recording the more pleasanter things and dealing with that I abhor and everything that comes in between. I have the notebooks and journals to prove it. When I win the Nobel Prize (joke) then someone will be interested in them. Until then, I will look at them and know I have gathered the days of my youth, middle age and now senior years. I still get ideas for stories from them but not often. I am one of those lucky writers who only have to put pen to paper or fingers to keys. The story just comes out onto the paper or screen.
This morning was a celebration as I woke up. That in itself was cause for celebration. There will be a time when I won't and Reader you won't have to read an entry about my waking up. Of course, you could read that I woke up dead. I have always loved that saying. I could write: "This morning, I woke up dead. " I think I would have to be a vampire in order for that to be true, but I won't wake up in the morning sunlight now would I?
No comments:
Post a Comment