It is hard to write this week.
My head is full of ideas and my pages full of scribbles and jottings, but nothing is coming together into poetry or story. So, yesterday, we drove along the coast of New Brunswick to get some fresh air and different perspectives.
We stopped here. Saw this, breathed spray from the white caps. The wind was blowing right through us and out the other side.
As I watched, the waves reminded me that coming in, going out, over and over again, back and forth, over and over is one way to discover. Sometimes it takes time. Sometimes writing takes time.
And, sometimes the writing has its own rhythm.
Words and photo are copyright Carol Steel.