Ebb and Flow

Resolute in the doldrums on the Equator
Henry John Douglas-Scott-Montagu
Source

Becalmed, in the doldrums, adrift, or heck, maybe I'm just lazy. I tried, hard, to capture something to write about today, some new fiction, while I maintained the chase, for a while, eventually the idea ran off. I couldn't quite get ahold of it. It's still there, will probably be there tomorrow. But for now ...

Warmer today, supposed to get some weather over the weekend, more snow I'm told. Could be a couple of inches, might be nine inches, depends on where the rain/snow line lies. Being on the coast of a big body of water (i.e. the Atlantic) really affects the weather in these parts.

Frontal systems with moisture push up from the south, those with cold air push down from the north. The fronts collide and do battle. Along the front (if you will) one side is snow, the other rain. It's interesting to read about, sometimes not fun to be caught up in.

Checking the mail today (our neighborhood counts as "rural," which means the postman doesn't have to come to your door, they leave it in your mailbox on the street) I noted that the wind was howling. It does that a lot along the coast, nothing to stop it from sweeping in off the sea. I had the thought that the wind here blows almost as much as the wind in Wyoming.

Note I said almost, the wind in Wyoming seemed to always be blowing.

I went to college in Fort Collins, Colorado. We did most of our military shopping up in Cheyenne, at F. E. Warren AFB, home to a missile wing at the time. Fifty miles separate the two places along I-25. It could be nice in Fort Collins but with blizzard conditions in Cheyenne. Never seemed to be the opposite though.

Driving to Cheyenne back then was interesting. You'd see a herd of pronghorn antelope out on the plains. Sometimes you'd see a helicopter in the distance, a military bird, traveling to one of the missile silos out there. Living in a peaceful landscape beneath which lurked the end of mankind. I grew up in the 60s, the threat of nuclear war was drilled into us.

Sometimes we'd be at the commissary late and head home after sundown. Way across the plains you could see a line of thunderstorms at night, lighting the horizon. It was peaceful, the kids nodding off in the backseat, me and The Missus Herself just enjoying the light show, good times.

I think my lack of writing as of late has a lot to do with being retired, I don't seem to have any impetus to do anything, other than relax. Having this freaking cold doesn't help, but that'll pass.

I have some ideas for some new fiction (and continuing the old) but those take time to percolate, if you will. Need to do some research which, while interesting, feels an awful lot like work. I'm just not ready to buckle down and do that, just yet.

Bear with me, it's a process. One I don't fully understand and don't care to, I'm a big go with the flow kind of guy, I move as the spirit bids and right now the spirit says, "Chill, you've worked for fifty years, time to relax for a bit."

So I am.

Author's Note: Watching 1883 has also put me into a bit of an introspective mood. It's a great series, I highly recommend it.