hendelar

sometimes you just gotta' row

waiting for spring

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a spectrum of smoky, violet-veined mauve to dusty rose framing the bay with sunset. Robins, plump as Winnipeg mosquitoes, darting over the winter-yellowed lawn like roadrunners. the white-tail gang dropped in to munch around the dinner hour today, as is their want. the peaty aroma of this morning’s low-tide walk created an olfactory mirage of a Scotch whiskey i once knew well.

Yes, a season.

i began another rewrite of the novel today, version number, uncountable. each revision feels crisper and less encumbered by the words than the one before it, so, not a bad thing. a publisher has offered to review, without obligation, a couple of chapters. i’m targeting to have two chapters from the second book and the first chapter for the first book, ready by the end of next week. freshly minted.

it may be that it’s all finished and the time will have arrived to move on. not sure of the direction of said move, should that time be near. in any event, a pivot point is on the way.

it has been a long, hard winter. weather too. i admire the ability of those people who live with an assuredness of the appearance of a next season. a springtime or summertime. harvest-time. it might be no more than blissful ignorance but it must be comforting.

to me it seems the only time is now and the current season will have to do. even if it means planting seeds in the frozen tundra. i know, it’s just a matter of making a choice and, it ought not to be as difficult.

the uncertainty is the crux. i’m certain.

glh

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Written by glh

April 8, 2011 at 20:18

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