I'm not sure what's wrong.

There are times in the year where I will suddenly and without warning 'shut down' my creative processes. Well, I don't do it on purpose... I imagine a tiny little munchkin-me riding sidesaddle in my brain who gets her kicks on plucking out that particular mass of goo sometimes.

I sure wish I knew where she flung it.

All around me Spring has been bursting up out of the dead ground. Flowers reaching up for the sun... birds gathering in the wood piles. The slightly peppery scent of an orchard coming back to life. So... why can't I write about it?

Good question.

Thank you. I pride myself on good questions.

Smart aleck.

Anyway....

Every day I come look at my blog. I look at it, and visit the links. I listen to the music (which, by the way - is soon to change. I'm in a Crowded House mood this week. Mmm, Neil Finn - thank you for your songs), and I stare at the Blogger button like it were a little alien having just beamed in from Betelgeuse. If I don't look at it, maybe it will go away... or at least go to the next trailer park down the road.

But of course, I don't *really* want it to go away. I want it to stay awhile. In fact, if I were to be truthful, I might even let it take me back to it's mothership for some testing.

So why the resistance?

Maybe I'm having a temporary aversion to being prodded with long pointy needles. Or, long pointy lines of code for that matter. I guess you could say it's writer's block... but it would be the wrong thing to say. I'm not blocked. In fact, I have so many things boiling inside my little mind that you could say it is writer's overload. I have so MUCH to say, that it has bottlenecked.

The best route to take then, if there is a path to choose - is to let the wine flow one droplet at a time. Because someday, it will become a full glass again.

That being said....

I had the most fascinating dream the other night. It wasn't part of a lengthy epic as my night dreams are prone to be. It was a brief flash - a wavering moment in my subconcious... but it was so beautiful. In fact, I can honestly say this was the most peaceful, serene 'place' I have ever visited in my dreams.

I had walked up the last few steps of a grassy bank, to stand at the edge of a slow moving river. It wasn't very big, in fact a person wouldn't have to be a very strong swimmer to make it to the other side. But it was breathtaking.

Sunlight was streaming down through a wall of mist that had stopped short of the bank on the opposite side. Diffused light focused on the barely moving water, and glistened in near-blinding golden shimmers. The water was an impossible shade of emerald green... like it was a priceless jewel flowing over the rocks. The trees were weeping willows, and their branches hung gently over the water, the tips moving to and fro over the surface.

I stood there, completely engulfed in perfect warmth. I could almost taste the emerald hue, it was that rich. I was stunned by the beauty of sunlight through the mist, and everything about the moment told me that I had arrived. Where? It didn't matter. I had arrived.... and that's all I needed to know.

I desperately wanted to take a picture.

I turned and ran down the bank, to go into a nearby house and fetch my camera. I was moving in slow motion...but not in panic-time. It was simply the way I had to move in this serene place. But by the time I got my camera and climbed back up the hill, the moment was gone. The sun was hiding behind a higher group of clouds, and the water had dimmed to a grey-blue.

But when I woke up shortly thereafter, I still had that warm, green-gold glow radiating inside of me.

Someday, I'm going to be standing on that bank. But I'm not going to leave it to take a picture. I'm just going to lay down in the plush grass, and let the sunlight infuse me.