Writing in Snow

Sometimes I don’t want to write

Word count: 512

Sometimes I don’t want to write so I look out my living room window and watch the clouds floating past. It’s August and the clouds are white masses of sheep’s wool floating in an ocean of blue. Some of the clouds look like fish, earlier today I saw a cloud resembling a sperm whale spouting white foam into the blue sky.

I look out at the clouds. I wonder why the clouds have different shapes. Why does one cloud look like a sperm whale spouting white foam into the blue ocean? Why does another cloud look like a helicopter? Why do humans see shapes in the clouds? Is this a uniquely human attribute?

I look at the clouds. I see the shapes the wind in the upper atmosphere carved as it caresses their bodies. I wonder if clouds feel pain as the wind transforms them from white collection of water molecules into exquisite works of art. Are the shapes of the clouds works of art or just an accident of the wind?

I like partly cloudy days, not because it brings the humidity up, but because sometimes I don’t want to write. The shapes of the clouds inspire me to write haiku, to write poems about the clouds describing the shapes of the clouds.

Sometimes I don’t want to write because my muse takes an unannounced vacation. On those days, it is difficult to write, but a writer must write whether she feels like it or not. I thank God for cloudy days because the come at times when I need inspiration. Other things inspire me besides the clouds. The rain and the snow are companions to the clouds. The lightning and the thunder are children of the clouds.

Sometimes I don’t want to write because I’m tired. I go to bed. When I lay my head on my pillow I’m wide awake. I get up and go to the computer. I begin to write, as I write my head nods. I turn the computer off and go to bed and sometimes I’m able to sleep. At other times, I’m wide awake until I go to the computer again and then I want to fall asleep.

Sometimes I don’t want to write 500 words, but I made a commitment to write 500 words. Sometimes it’s difficult to write 500 words on the same subject. Sometimes I ramble across the field of my thought writing whatever comes to mind. I’ve never been very good with deadlines and schedules, at least I think that is so. All though, that may not be true or it could be true because I think it’s true.

The mind (or is it the brain) plays trick. It accepts without question the repetitions that… Sometimes I don’t want to write. If I make myself write something, anything the illusion that I don’t want to write goes away and I write. I put one letter after the other. I put one word after the other. I put one sentence after the other. I put one paragraph after the other, etc.