Big storm here. Lots of snow. Snowed for over 24 hours straight. These photos are from outside my front door this morning, before my landlord shoveled & cleared my walkway. (Thanks!) The poor tree has broken branches. Chinese Elms do not do well in Durango. Good thing I have a 4WD truck so I could get out of my parking spot this morning--the snowplows had tossed deep chunks of snow on my side of the street, of course! Tonight I parked across the street, facing downhill--just in case. (Just watch the snowplows bury me in again tomorrow morning. That would be a laugh!)
At any rate. Good writing day. I tried very hard not to think about skiing...which was challenging when a friend & I met in town to do laundry and then walked around to look at all the tele gear on sale in the stores. Mm....! But I did manage to crank out a piece due on Friday--well, 3/4s of it anyway--which felt quite satisfying.
The writing comes slowly at times. But it does eventually come. Insistent. Steady. Dependable, even if I am not. Is it a curse or a blessing? I think of it as a wild journey from one flying soul to another. The words link us together, even the prosaic ones, such as installation instructions or the ingredient lists on our food.
Words. I know I'd pretty much die without them! I am one of many in a long chain of preservers, protectors, even defenders of the word. Today almost anyone can make themselves heard (even if it's only to one other person) because of that perplexing, wonderful technology known as the Internet. But what if it all goes kaflooey tomorrow? So much will be lost. Which is why I say we can NEVER do away with good old paper & ink. Amazon's Kindle (yes, Amazon, that deep-pocketed bastion of literature on the cheap, where I do admit with a clear conscience to shopping sometimes) seems like a pretty cool invention. But it will not, cannot, ever completely replace the heft and intoxicating smell of a new (or old) book in a human hand.
Enough philosophizing. Time to finish reading Outfoxed by Rita Mae Brown--then to the dreamland again, cradled by that immense, beckoning winterfall just outside my doorstep....