Reflected Light

Someone recently asked me why I write.  After a moment of surprise at their curiosity, I replied that I write to live.  I struggle to get words down as quickly as the sentences form.  I bargain with myself:  Do the laundry now, write later.  I don’t  always give my own passages high marks but I don’t seem to control them.  They just flow. Most of the time, I do not edit; I send my words into the atmosphere and turn to the next effort.

I see my writing as a reflection of the world around me.   I hope that I do justice to the light source once in a while.  Certainly, I have good role models for that endeavor:  Excellent writers but also phenomenal reflectors, such as the December moon over the California Delta last night.

It’s the thirtieth day of the eighty-fourth month of My Year Without Complaining.  Life continues.

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