Outside my blogging window is the neighbor’s house, truck, and occasionally the trash can when they clean out the truck, which is why I have covered the little window with a table runner as curtain; it filters the light and the view. Don’t get me wrong; they are the best neighbors with kids who play outside, filling the neighborhood with laughter and planning and squeals of joy. Our houses are just close together.
The same thing is true for the other window by my desk: it’s the street. The hawthorne tree once outside to create a nice view blew over in a vicious storm.
However, in the summer and fall, the window, or sliding door by the kitchen is what I look and walk through to blog outside in my back yard; That window looks like this, filled with grandchildren window art with a view to our wild and canopied back yard, thanks to a giant sycamore.
Our “Ent” frequently hosts guests during the heat of the summer afternoons:
The dappled sunlight filters the sun and the heat and gives a dreamy sense of wonderment every single day. It’s in every story I’ve written for NaNoWriMo. It’s in the memories of our grandchilden who turned the yard into engineering feats with muddy rivers and dams, physics of swing set tree leave gathering [swinging high to capture leaves with their feet], drying spots for freshly made paper, hidden nooks for secret breakfast meetings, serious bark painting, quiet reading or group singing on the patio swing, gardens of bright flowers carefully planted on the sunny side, and ninja operations late at night. Plenty of inspiration for writing.
And back at my desk are plenty of those remnants:
My desk looks much different now; instead of teacher books and writing projects, I have markers and doodles, and space for art. I have time for my mind to be civilized and refined. No more worry if I’ve considered every child in my class– the reading material for their interests, the learning target fit for each, the data gathered for mandate proof and paperwork. Now, my mind can rest and imagine and dream and create. Ah, retirement.
This post is a response to the WordPress Weekly Photo Challenge Windows, so I wanted to extend beyond this homebound window. This past weekend, more blogging/writing ideas cropped up outside the van window:
One tree, green among the dried prairie bunch grasses. A balloon caught on the wire fence. A lonely highway headed to the mountain in the distance. A story…
A highway that ended, leaving only the dusty, clay road beneath the blue of possible thunder clouds.
Notice the “Posted” sign. It seems obvious it is a posted sign. Why add the word “POSTED”? Here’s why. Now you know.
On the dusty road, castles of basalt haystacks beneath more billowy clouds and an expansive blue sky provide a possible meeting place for characters in another adventure of Blue, the fairy descendant who communes with the forces of nature, large and small.
It’s almost hunting season. I’m not going to tell you we scared these away because a truck full of hunters were scouting them a mile behind us. You did not read that sentence.
Literally, outside the van window:
Mood, emotion, wind, blue sky, billowed clouds, tall grasses, power poles. The makings of a powerful setting.
This looks like Seymour. Ugh. It’s a common mullein. My husband calls it an Indian Spear because, dried up, you can pull it up and throw it like a spear, which he did many times as a kid in Montana. This is the end of the plant’s year two cycle. In its first year, small rosettes hide what’s coming next. Imagine this is your science fantasy story.
If you look carefully, directly above the far right fence post, you can see a tiny white rectangle. That’s a truck across the river! This rock is HUGE. It’s part of the Colville batholith, which covers 1700 miles!
An old homestead beneath a storm cloud as the sun sets– certainly a setting for trouble in the novel. Below the batholith and homestead: the Columbia River.
Note: The primitive road dips beneath this haystack basalt boulder, dropped by a massive flood or glacier.
Haystack Basalt rocks can be immense, as shown is this video below of the rock that you also see in the opening scene of The Goonies:
The day must end, so sunset scenes from the weekend should inspire you to peek out your window this evening to see what story hides, waiting for your discovery:
And don’t forget that besides the beauty of the trees and the bunch grass and the rocks and the love skies, look down at your feet for tiny wonders. Who knows, from what windows in their world are creatures peering back up at you?