Saturday, May 9, 2009
I have several 'writing spots' at my house. We live on three acres with a little pond and a little barn. Of course I have my office upstairs overlooking the pond where most of the work takes place. But then, when the mood strikes me, I can be found carting my laptop off to my inspirational points. One is on our front porch on my yellow swing. From there I can see one of my flower gardens and the horses down the road. My next place to settle in to write is my back porch. It's screened in and it's my favorite place to write during a summer rain storm, or late a night as the crickets and bullfrogs converse. Mid-morning, one of my favorite spots to plop down and write is the porch of my garden shed-- which is really the back portion of our barn sectioned off just for me and my pots and dirt and assorted whirly-gigs and the like. The little porch is just a few feet from the pond. I watch swallows dive over the pond scooping up bugs for an early lunch, and hear some kind of fish jump out of the water, also helping himself to a bug feast. I also sometimes just write inside the shed at my potting table... just because. That give me a great view of our neighbors cornfields and barns. And then there's the shade of the 'Dancing Trees', as my granddaughters call them. It's where we can be spotted twirling with glee between the long willowy branches, when we've a mind to. Regular people call them, weeping willows. But for me, Paisly, Harper, and Zella...they're the Dancing Trees. Anyway, under those tree, I have a great view back toward the house, the pond, etc., and write as the branches gently dance around me.
Yesterday, I wrote on the porch of the potting shed for about two hours. Another hard section to write as Secretary Johnson walks into the cell of a woman dying of AIDS. At first, he's afraid to even shake her hand when introduced. But by the time, their time together ends, he hugs hers, prays with her and promises to try his best to get her an emergency parole from the governor, so she can spend the last three months of her life with her young sons. Aaron Johnson is a compassionate man, and his life story will inspire us all to consider all persons holy.
This morning, I write this sitting on my 'girl chair' in my office. It's big and comfy and has great big blue flowers all over it...as I''m thankful for the honor of telling Aaron's story.