writing

another leg, another journey

another leg, another journey

It's kind of funny to think about the different times when writing actually calls to me by name. Usually, it's when I'm fired up by something, circumstances igniting a burning passion somewhere deep inside my soul that demands to be written about to alleviate it. Other times, it's quiet, quivering voice that asks to simply sit with it, perhaps scratching out a few words while I'm there. But this time, it's something more of a contented sigh, a quiet, understanding laugh as the summer yawns and stretches its arms, well aware that September has already arrived and that it won't be staying for an encore performance this year.