The other night at a 12-step meeting, I bemoaned the fact that I haven't used up even a quarter of my personal journal pages this year. In 2009, I filled a whole notebook, and it felt good to know I had written (and processed) that much "stuff". I like to journal; I like the feel of pen on paper, the look of my words on the page. It's a great way for me to mull over the half-formed thoughts blobbed in my brain.
This year has been different. I still have a lot of stuff to process. But I'm talking about things a little more, and Rufus and I have been walking a lot. We try to get out at least three times a week for about an hour of fast walking. It's a great time to be a little closer to nature as we walk on car-free trails. I'm working on remembering the plants my Gramma told me about many years ago, and I hope to learn to identify more bird songs. But mostly, it's relaxation for the minds and exercise for the bodies, and the Ruf and I love our walks.
I guess I'm a frustrated photographer. I love to capture the moment, but a cell phone camera isn't the best tool. Many of my attempts fall short. Once in a while, though, I hit on something beautiful. When I get a really good shot, it often ends up either on my computer desktop or on my cell phone screen. Here's what I've got on my phone right now:
And this is a shot I took tonight, now blown up on my desktop:
Back to writing about writing, as my title suggested. I'd like to leave a legacy in words, a written account of my journey. But these pictures represent the song of my heart. Maybe I'll write more and explain this more fully later.