Early spring. Primavera [1]. Time for long-dormant ideas to sprout and make themselves known. Time to sense the sunlight breach the wall. Time to stop hiding for the winter. Time to stop hiding, full stop. It’s ten years since I started seriously thinking about writing. Ten years of scheming, reading, sketching out ideas, blogging, appearing then disappearing from view. Nothing has landed, nothing has taken root, there has been no commitment to myself long enough to place careful black words on white page and send them out. I read
Loved going on this journey with you Lynne. Your words create such vivid imagery - I’ll forever see scabs of lichen now. So beautiful. Also intrigued by the yellows of March, as I haven’t read that book. Yet. ☺️
Loved going on this journey with you Lynne. Your words create such vivid imagery - I’ll forever see scabs of lichen now. So beautiful. Also intrigued by the yellows of March, as I haven’t read that book. Yet. ☺️