Today was an in between kind of day. I’m back from travel for the book. Haven’t solidified upcoming appearances for summer or fall yet. There’s a stack of short writing assignments on my desk.
The sky was half fog (to the east), half sunshine (to the west). I jumped on my bike in the late morning and rode out through farm land towards the coast, just taking it easy and feeling the sun on my arms and face. I passed the calf I saw being born a few days ago; he’s on his feetâ€”as he was twenty minutes after birth–but looking fully at home in this world now.
At the boat ramp I got off, lay on my back near the river’s edge, listened to the water flowing by, and watched the clouds forming and teasing apart over my head. I’ve too many ideas for books already. But a new one came, beautiful, full blown. I can taste it, practically hold it in my hands, turn the pages, and read the words already written.
I knew that when I got home I’d have a pile of commitments to work on, so I took my time riding back, noticing the wildflowers coming out, soaking in the green of the new pastures and the warmth of the sun.
Insead of tackling that stack on my desk, I sketched out the introduction for the new book idea.