Easing Into Fall - So Long, Summer
A Calming View and Dreams...
Visiting my son’s house with the wonderful view of a cove that leads out to the Atlantic Ocean, with sailboat’s white sails bobbing on the water beyond the jut of land and a tiny bridge leading to an island, always calms me.
On a very hot day in Maine, I sit under the ceiling fan in the cool living room that lets in the ocean breeze but not the heat of the sun. And I listen and watch and dream about my bucket list, which includes my own house with such a view. A place that inspires me to write.
But alas, even though I love my little landlocked view from my writing desk, these water views inspire me to write. So, with a day off from computers and writing, and with words and images insisting on churning through my mind, I grabbed my phone and wrote a stream of consciousness…
The continuous, high chirps emanating from the leaf cover.West bound wind off the ocean furling leaves bright green to dark, depending on how deep the sun penetrates the canopy of the huge oak standing between me and the ocean.The water a constant movement of ripples headed toward beach.A white gull’s lazy travel, swooping and landing on the barely submerged sandbar.The water morphing from the color of cement gray to a tailored, summer weight, wool-gray to light turquoise to yellow-green and back to a darker turquoise as the ocean laps against the opposite shore of the cove The barrier of bright pink and deep red blossoms gracing bushes of dark green-leafed, sea-side roses in the yard across the street.
The hum of the nearby interstate traffic weaving from one end of the city to the other, broken by sirens racing down the highway and a plane roaring into the summer sky from the nearby airport.Then back to the consistent chirp, chew, chew, chirp, chirp buzz of birds.Saturday afternoon, away from computer and household chores and headline news I want to make disappear. The news that makes me regress to my innocence, fifty years ago when I was first old enough to understood policy and politics, hate and love, kindness and cruelty… 
Today, I concentrate on the sounds, and the feel of comforting breezes and hot sun and water rippling from the light puffs of wind and nature living its life in the sheltered trees.
Those thoughts, scribbled to clear my brain, allowed creativity to be unlocked.
The tranquil view and the quiet of the house and neighborhood with only sounds of wind and birds and an occasional meow as Luna wandered into the house and plopped down next to me on the couch, her head gently pushing against my leg as she leaned into my caress, helped to settle me.
Views and pets calmed my anger at the world we live in that can’t treat every human being with respect and love.
Thank goodness for serene scenery, nature’s sounds, and dreams of a room with a view where I can get lost in words that will lead to a story with a happy ending. My escape from a harsh world. And…the reason I write romance.
What's Your Favorite View? And ... Why?
Visiting my son’s house with the wonderful view of a cove that leads out to the Atlantic Ocean, with sailboat’s white sails bobbing on the water beyond the jut of land and a tiny bridge leading to an island, always calms me.
On a very hot day in Maine, I sit under the ceiling fan in the cool living room that lets in the ocean breeze but not the heat of the sun. And I listen and watch and dream about my bucket list, which includes my own house with such a view. A place that inspires me to write.
But alas, even though I love my little landlocked view from my writing desk, these water views inspire me to write. So, with a day off from computers and writing, and with words and images insisting on churning through my mind, I grabbed my phone and wrote a stream of consciousness…The continuous, high chirps emanating from the leaf cover.West bound wind off the ocean furling leaves bright green to dark, depending on how deep the sun penetrates the canopy of the huge oak standing between me and the ocean.The water a constant movement of ripples headed toward beach.A white gull’s lazy travel, swooping and landing on the barely submerged sandbar.The water morphing from the color of cement gray to a tailored, summer weight, wool-gray to light turquoise to yellow-green and back to a darker turquoise as the ocean laps against the opposite shore of the cove The barrier of bright pink and deep red blossoms gracing bushes of dark green-leafed, sea-side roses in the yard across the street.
The hum of the nearby interstate traffic weaving from one end of the city to the other, broken by sirens racing down the highway and a plane roaring into the summer sky from the nearby airport.Then back to the consistent chirp, chew, chew, chirp, chirp buzz of birds.Saturday afternoon, away from computer and household chores and headline news I want to make disappear. The news that makes me regress to my innocence, fifty years ago when I was first old enough to understood policy and politics, hate and love, kindness and cruelty… Today, I concentrate on the sounds, and the feel of comforting breezes and hot sun and water rippling from the light puffs of wind and nature living its life in the sheltered trees.Those thoughts, scribbled to clear my brain, allowed creativity to be unlocked.
The tranquil view and the quiet of the house and neighborhood with only sounds of wind and birds and an occasional meow as Luna wandered into the house and plopped down next to me on the couch, her head gently pushing against my leg as she leaned into my caress, helped to settle me. Views and pets calmed my anger at the world we live in that can’t treat every human being with respect and love.Thank goodness for serene scenery, nature’s sounds, and dreams of a room with a view where I can get lost in words that will lead to a story with a happy ending. My escape from a harsh world. And…the reason I write romance.
What's Your Favorite View? And ... Why?
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