The weather cooperated enough with my schedule so I could get in some outdoor time. I did a little weeding, but I have a lot more yard work to do.
Writing, gardening, organizing, they all have the same thing in common. Sure you can go in there, work for hours and hours, and you’ll see a lot get done. The problem I have is being too tired and burned out to want to finish the job. The joy gets lost in the work. I get better results if I plug away, bit by bit, over the course of time. I’m never going to be a master gardener, but today I got some of my seeds planted, I rediscovered a chunk of my front yard, and I planted five of the potted plants I bought around Mother’s Day. They are out of my bathroom! (I have a skylight in there, so that’s the place where all the new plants go until I can find a home for them.)
My writing has slowed down recently, but it’s not because I’m blocked. The weather is warming up, the days are getting longer, and I don’t want to miss the season. Spring is short here in Michigan! I’m spending time with friends and family. I’ve been enjoying life. As long as I write a little bit everyday, I know I’m progressing along, just not at the pace I set for myself during the dark winter months.
I don’t know if writing has a season. I suspect that it does for those of us living in areas with extremes in temperature. If that is the case, I’d rather allow the seasons to work for me than fight them. It’s like strawberries. They are just starting to blossom in my garden, and I know I’ll be picking them in only a matter of weeks. Sure you can buy strawberries in the grocery store all year, but none of them taste as sweet as the ones eaten
minutes seconds after being picked. They only taste their best during their season. Perhaps I am only at my most productive during the “writing season.”