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.
10 comments:
So true carol. so beautiful and so appreciated after the long wait.
Thanks Gwen. It was so lovely to just sit and watch the waves.
I would love to sit by the ocean.. Michelle
Michelle, it is a freeing and healing experience to simply sit and watch the waves.
what a lovely view and yes you're certainly right about the rhythms of writing
Thanks CGP. I seem to be stuck just now, lots of work in progress and lots of ideas brewing. Just nothing coming together completely, at least not yet.
How well I know that feeling. Lack of ideas isn't my problem, but lack of focus. There's so much I could write about, and I stumble all over myself instead of walking straight ahead.
But isn't it true that the ocean is a great healer. Your photo and words reminded me of Anne Morrow Lindbergh's "Gift From the Sea". I'm sure you must know it. It's one I return to again and again, just because...
Thanks Linda. My head seems to be full of ideas and none wanting to be completed. I am cooking in many pots at once. I know and love "Gift from the Sea"...must get it out for another read. Thanks for the reminder.
Hi. I always think anyone who lives by the ocean must be blessed with oportunities for self reflection and solitude. Jane
Hello Jane and thanks for your visit and comment. I envy people who live within sight of the waters along our coast. More and more, it is a luxury reserved for the wealthy. We can still find stretches where we can park and sit and dream but they are becoming fewer every year.
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