Yesterday was a beautiful day, with the temperature rising to 25 degrees warmer then average. Spring scented the air and the sun was warm on my hair and jeans. The snow was melting off the garage roof in a steady sheet of falling drops and along the south wall of our house, one hopeful green iris shoot was poking through the snow.
I know spring is a long ways off; we often have winter storms into the middle of May here, but it’s on its way. I like winter and being snowed in, tucked cozy and warm in my little house with my family, but spring gives me hope. Suddenly, I’m not so afraid of rejection or submitting my work to agents and editors. I’m filled with new ideas, to the point that I feel if I don’t get them written down, I might burst. My husband walks through the house, sighing, as he picks up scraps of paper and random notebooks filled with my ideas, my own little drifts of white, but this time inside the house, instead of out.
Spring and summer have long been the two seasons where I get my most creative work done. Something about the soft air, the golden light, the sweet smell of the breezes, seems to stimulate my mind and my soul in a way that the burning beauty of autumn and the spare, barren austerity of winter cannot do. I feel lighter, more excited, knowing spring is approaching. What about you? When do you do your best writing?