Where writing happens . . .

I mine ideas after the energy and relaxation of yoga class. Running by the Pacific ocean near San Diego or the Willamette river in Eugene excites wonder. Distractions take me off the paths into adventures.

Notions flair and fly in my mind as seagulls sprint in the breezes above. Calls of Canada geese and mallards add to the symphony of my senses.

The aroma of coffee mingles with the flavors of pine trees and lavender bushes.

Memories escape in magenta and all hues of blue

Thoughts and fragments roll like pebbles in a tumbler. Often I have stopped to write on my arms begging a pen from a passerby.

Now I can voice print into my cell phone to avoid stopping.

Clicks of my phone save photographs to ponder. 

Branches coil in textures.

A move from the path reveals how metaphors tease in mussel shells.

When I return to a pen or computer screen, the ideas have wobbled themselves into another state.

How does writing come to you?