On Writing "Nothing To Do Days"

Abstract

The night was dark and full of windy whispers. I sat in the midst of it, slowly becoming oblivious to all but the absorbing blackness and the cold gusts that were blowing me away from the physical world. Within myself I rose and soared to match the wind in frenzied, exhilarating flight. My mind scanned the earth, shot through the valley, up to the mountains, and into the sky, higher and higher, until it hit the moon. It was the very same moon that has been an inspiration to people for thousands upon thousands of years, and yet I stood, so stricken by its simple loveliness that I had to capture the image. I had to make it mine.