Amazing Sunday Sunshine

You know what I love about Sundays?  Tranquility.  I especially love the tranquility when Mother Nature agrees to be kind and in the spirit of the day.  Living in the countryside I find that Sundays are usually quiet although even as I write there is a rush of vehicles at my corner.  But that is unusual for a Sunday as most often the farmers around here are sleeping in until noon or even later. 

       It’s February but the sun is shining softly, the snow from yesterday is already gone, there is the merest wisp of a breeze and the tiny birds are back and looking for the seeds in the bird feeder.  Spring is in the air, Balzac Billy hit it right this year, an early spring.  Daylight is back, the days stretch longer and longer, and potential starts to whisper in my ear.  I ignore the stacks of stuff that belong in the still being renovated room and pull out notebooks, texts, pencils and pens and settle down to await the muse.  I close my eyes and go into Haiku mode which I find is a simple way to begin the writing process.  I ignore the poor quality, this is simply how I like to start because yes, I am seeking that boundless potential, but in a soft way.

       There are different ways to approach things and I freely confess I am often a weekend warrior where I pull out all the stops.  I put on hiking boots, I put on down vest, ear slings, working gloves and then I pull out the tools and go for it in the garden.  Sometimes I hack down trees, I haul dead branches, I rake pile upon pile of leaves and finally I will take the mower and go for it, bushwhacker mode.  I can be a ninja and pull out my sketch books or canvas and start putting lines down.  I can settle down in the office and start forming words on the computer.  Yes, I can go for it with gusto, no doubt about that.

       But it’s February, it’s on the cusp of spring, it’s a tranquil Sunday morning and I feel the muse that leads me to close my eyes and imagine poetry.