Sunday Musings

I was looking out my window wondering what to write when I spotted a turkey buzzard circling on the wind. Such a heavy, ugly bird, but put him on an updraft and he's as regal as an eagle. I see them often, drifting on the air currents, flying high above us, but I also see them along the road picking at roadkill. They're not very impressive then, but that's their job in this world.

Writing is rather like that at times. When the words are flowing and the story makes us laugh or cry we're taking flight, flying above all the carrion that weights us down in life. Then there are the days when the words get stuck or sound stupid or the story is just such a mess that we want to quit. Instead we hit the delete key, ridding the world of our literary roadkill, then we sit back and try again.

All of life is like that, full of those roadkill moments that give the splendiferous moments the ability to help us soar. We need them both to fully appreciate what we have in life.