The sun has just begun to peek over the horizon, casting a soft, golden glow across the lawn.
It's mid-June and the air is refreshingly cool, a gentle contrast to the steaming mug of coffee cradled in my hands. It’s early, I’m sluggish and look like I body slammed into my laundry pile, throwing on whatever came to hand just so I could get outside.
As I take a sip, the warmth spreads through my aching middle-aged body, igniting my senses and fuelling my crone-induced creativity.
I may still be sleepy but the garden is already alive with the symphony of morning. There are birds chirping in the trees, their melodies weaving through the air like the score of a Lerner & Loewe musical. Starlings, magpies, sparrows, robins, jays, pigeons and the odd seagull populate this tiny patch of land, that I like to call ‘the meadow’.
I pause to listen, feeling a sense of connection with nature that often eludes me indoors. My sometime companion, the neighbourhood cat, is sleeping in a tight doughnut on a nearby chair, embodying the tranquility of the morning.
I glance around, admiring the vibrant blooms that scatter colour across the garden. There are roses and many other flowers, whose names escape me at this early hour. The bushes need cutting back but I hate to kill their vibe. Let them be free, I think to myself. And there, at the back of the garden, majestic in all its glory is the silver birch tree - its delicate leaves shimmering in the morning light, whispering secrets of inspiration. I often touch the bark and talk to it. It does such a good job of being a tree. Showy but not obnoxious, so I like to give it pep talks.
With my laptop on the table in front of me - not yet open as I look through my scribbled handwritten notes - I feel a surge of possibility.
This is hands down my favourite time of year and this morning, I mull over the importance of changing my writing environment because each new location brings its own energy, its own muse. This untamed garden, with its wild beauty, is the perfect sanctuary for my thoughts to flow freely. Even better, this morning, the exceptionally loud neighbours are being uncharacteristically quiet. Amen to that.
As I type (the laptop is now open for business), I’m reminded of how the seasons can influence our writing. Spring’s promise of new beginnings, summer’s vibrancy, autumn’s reflective mood, and winter’s quietude all play a role in shaping my stories. (I’m being nice to winter, those who follow me know how much I struggle in those dark and dreary months).
But embracing these changes allows me to draw inspiration from the world around me, making the creative journey richer and more fulfilling. Sounds lofty but that’s the hope and the intention.
In this early Monday morning moment, as the sun climbs higher and the air warms, I revel in the whimsy of writing in the garden, and take a moment to appreciate that later in the day, you will be joining me in the garden by reading this. Thanks for showing up.
I check myself. Is this too much? Unsure but I’m feeling particularly poetic, hence this post. Maybe it was watching the original cast of Hamilton perform at the Tony’s last night at around 5am this morning, that made me especially emotional. The artistry of that show never fails to move me. Could I ever be that free with my creativity? That clever? That energetic? I’m trying.
I may never be a Lin Manuel Miranda, and maybe I’ve already thrown away my shot, but what I can takeaway from this morning, from my little garden oasis, is that creativity thrives in the most unexpected places, and sometimes, all it takes is a little change of scenery to reignite the spark within.
So, with a snoring cat by my side, the distant hum of a workman’s radio, the squirrels bounding finally into view, and the garden as my muse, I dive into the world of imagination, ready to see where this pleasant June day will take me.
Lisa
Q&A: Ten for The TEN with Hanna Diamond
Unique, comedic and utterly captivating. Josephine Baker was not just an entertainer, she was a tour de force.
People underestimate a change of scenery as the impetus for new ideas and a thawing of writer's block. It's my favorite remedy!