vaneramos | Outside

Now this is how the days begin. I usually take breakfast or write morning pages on the deck before going to work.

I spend more time out there in the evenings. Last night the Writers' Circle—me and Elysha and Carla—sat out there until 10:00 when it was dark and bugs started congregating around the porch light. The other writers don't seem to mind mosquitoes anymore than I do.

I grew up in a beautiful place and my family spent unusual amounts of time outdoors. When I was little, we would take many meals to the picnic table. My creative play involved cutting trails and building treeforts in the adjacent woods. Later we had a pet cedar waxwing who wanted constant company. The screened in porch where he lived became the place where we ate all our meals. I was raised to be more peaceful outdoors than in.

For 15 years I have lived in cheap apartments without immediate access to the Earth. I've had beautiful places to go for walks, but then outdoors was an event rather than a state of being.

Now once more I can simply be. It feels like slipping into a familiar garment, naturally and happily.

I could tell you about how the kitchen with its abundant counter space invites me to cook, but that is a topic for another post.