Moss Whispers

The Writer’s House is on the northwestern end of The Hillock, just above the World MailBox and below Owl’s Tree. An interesting thing to note is that there are quite a few holes in the ground near the house, with openings about as large as a silver dollar. And there is one hole that is covered with the bottom of a glass bottle, so you can see down into the hole in sort of a magnified way. Or is it so someone could look up from below and see things above in a much larger form? These holes are truly there, but didn’t make it into the camera’s eye…hmmm…wonder if they have something to do with a writer’s point of view? hmmm…

I’m not sure if this little guy is a character in the next story or if he is really just representing how I feel right now…as I’m fine-tuning things on the last book, learning the ropes of self publishing, and hatching ideas for the next one! Hmmm…maybe I should play around with him as a character. Actually there is a dwelling at The Hillock, called The Writer’s House. It’s under Owl’s Tree and just above the community World Mailbox. There’s a small pencil in a green jar attached to the house and quite a few bits of leaf stationery floating around. Children in our neighborhood actually leave little notes in the tiny mailbox. There’s something so magical and life-giving about communicating with the unseen and unknown. Writing in different languages and spellings doesn’t seem to make any difference to the readers. Somehow there are connections with one’s ‘inner knowing’. So this little ‘lizard guy’….must be pretty trusting to be moving about without seeing where he’s going. I know that’s how I’m feeling about this writing process, especially putting it ‘out there’ for everyone (the unknown) to see, even when I can’t see where it is going or I am going. Hmmm…writing inside one’s own egg…walking while writing…trusting while writing…writing while trusting…back to the breathing thing. There must be some light coming through…something that keeps sparking the process. Perhaps there’s an advantage to keeping our eggs over our heads while we’re trying to focus on growing something. Less distractions, only room for emerging thoughts that feed your purpose. Hmmm…a writing egg…more intimate and fueling perhaps than the old writing carrels in libraries. And this little guy’s shell was pretty flexible, more like a breathable space helmet.