The energies were moving quickly, round and round with great rapidity, for me during the last two weeks.
We've entertained visitors from Scotland and travelled to the Coast to visit family. I feel discombobulated; my routines have ridden the Whirlwind and completely disappeared.
Writing is the first thing to suffer, when I am very busy. Writing is the one thing which settles me, yet I push it aside first, every time.
Where is the author who can shut the door to the room in which he writes? Where is the writer who can close his mind to exciting, joyful, and anticipated events in which he is involved? I wish I knew him.
On the other hand, eventful situations provide fodder for this writer. Without them, writing takes on a stilted quality, a been there-done that kind of thing. Even my guides get bored.
Our visitors from Scotland were a delight. Seeing the Land through the eyes of someone from a completely different culture and way of life refreshes the entire experience.
And you know...if people around me have an accent of any sort for any length of time...I begin to pick up the aforementioned accent.