I spent the day writing, but I didn't put a word on paper.Sometimes writing has nothing to do with words. Sometimes writing is feeling and filling.
So, I spent four hours in wonder. I sat in the sunshine and let it warm my bones. I breathed in the pine-scented, lake-drifted breeze. I watched Coach's silhouette as he looked out over the lake. And I felt my well filling. I didn't try to formulate a plot. I didn't try to develop a character's wants or needs. I just filled up my soul with God's goodness.
I looked over at a lone tree on the bluff, and I thought about Cair Paravel in C.S. Lewis's Narnia series. I walked through a sun-dappled birch path, and I thought about Prince Edward Island and Lucy Maud Montgomery's Anne of Green Gables. I thought about whales off the island of Nantucket. I watched a dragonfly on a purple clover. I was a child again on a warm summer day with nothing to do but dream.
These days are what fill a writer- and a person. God's creation is glorious!
