To Every Season

I posted for 190 consecutive days and plan to pause for a while. Several things consumed my energy which needs recharging, something important to sustaining this bloggery.

I plan to write more about process, although today I don’t know what to say. A writer has a distinct ecosystem from which words spring. Consideration of that environment and process is important, and next on the to-do list. I have always had a process, yet it’s time for a rest, then a reset.

I bought the desk in the photograph immediately after returning to Iowa from Germany because I needed a place to write. Without home computers or cellular phone service, the incandescent lamps, two portable typewriters, a landline telephone, and a handheld calculator were the only mechanical devices I used. The large windows played a role.

The desk is still with me, although its use changed to that of a sorting table and storage unit. A writer sometimes needs space to lay out papers and artifacts when developing a story. I now write on a library table inherited from my father-in-law.

While I’m away—in the next virtual room as it were—here’s a Pete Seeger rendition of this famous folk song.