writing from the wild edge
I write letters in the morning overlooking the shimmering salt marsh. During the day, I follow the sun, sitting in the garden until I feel hot and then resting in the shade of the rose arbors, flowering wild, pink, fragrant. I write, hike, watch birds, and sit among the flowers feeling the sun on my face. This will be my schedule for two weeks at Mesa Refuge where I am a Michael Pollan Fellow. I share a house with two other writers, and we are encouraged to rest, read, walk, pick flowers, be still. I have a writing shed that overlooks the salt marsh. At dusk, I see herons fly over, close, their wings whispering.
The outside world, when I glimpse it, has me in a fury. I want to believe, still, that we can write and work ourselves into a better place.