Last December I wrote, “Whether you honor St. Nicholas Day, Bodhi Day, Yule, the Feast Day of Our Lady Guadalupe, Hanukkah, Christmas, Kwanzaa, Boxing Day or are devoting December to your spectacular New Year’s Eve plans, there is cause to celebrate, over and over, if you wish. Imagine all that cheer and goodwill rippling around our globe, with so many splashing about in waves of collective delight, wow, like a well-needed global-reset to equal this holiday season chockfull of festivities to share with friends and family.” When you think about it, is there anything better to concentrate on than sharing in collective delight? Quite seriously, that is just about all I can hope for, sharing this glittery and bright joy until we are all swept up. If you take a peek around, you will find nature agrees, bringing forth uplifting vistas and epic skylines perfectly.
Tag Archives: walking
Next Moves
I spend part of each day wandering, lost in my thoughts while I traipse atop a grand ridge. Sometimes in the cool of the morning mist or later in the sun-drenched heat of afternoon, but my favorite time to walk is when I catch the last burst before a dusky black lays upon the final moments of the day. There have been rattle snakes, coyotes, roadrunners and quail, even a bob cat, with multiple colonies of bunnies and an abundance of ground squirrels all passing along the foot path, but as I often stroll alone, I enjoy the company. Wandering is a common blog topic for me as I suppose like many writers I find the pedestrian occupation goes hand in hand with sorting out troublesome characters or plot lines or next moves.
Wandering
Like most, I am enriched by words. Writing them, reading them, listening to and endlessly speaking them. Words arrive as gifts, born out of my imagination or within the printed material piled up throughout our home. In Kerri Andrews’ book, Wanderers, she wrote, “On foot, Woolf walks out into the fields and into her mind.” The two activities, walking and writing, mesh for me as well. Virginia Woolf cements the idea in her May 11, 1920 diary entry, “Directly one gets to work one is like a person walking, who has seen the country stretching out before.” On my daily wandering, I think endlessly about the characters dancing about in my head, as vividly as I sort out real-life dilemmas that need the same attention to pacing. Walking connects us to all that swirls about before pen hits paper or brush slides over canvas or spice gets sprinkled into the dish. Walking journeys us along the path inside and out. Books do too.
Nine Cent Girl 