Hurricane Irma is spilling the last of her dregs over Northwest Tennessee today: gray skies, a steady drizzle, cooler-than-normal temperatures. It’s about time this mean lady blew herself out!

Irma is so much tamer now than when she hit land in South Florida. In a matter of a few days, her passion has been spent.

I think I must be part hurricane.

Great storms of inspiration swirl inside of me, building up energy, picking up mass and momentum. I feel like my head can no longer contain the thunder and lightning in my brain, and I sit down at the keyboard to write. Cancel all my appointments for the next six months – I must write the next Great American Novel!

My fingers tap-tap-tappity-tap furiously, and then…

pfffffft!

…quicker than I think possible, the inspiration and energy and momentum dissipate. I am left with gray fog, suffocating sog, and impotent wind.

I am working at the Paul Meek library today, on the beautiful UTM campus. I love the view across the quad – the green lawn, the majestic trees, the bustling students. Today, all is set against the gray, damp backdrop of an end-of-the-hurricane sky.

My feet are wet and cold from slogging through puddles in the parking lot. Would anyone at the library be offended if I took my shoes and socks off while I work?

This morning, I couldn’t wait for an opportunity to begin writing. Now – finally! – I have a quiet moment and a lovely setting in which to create.

A blank Word document glows on my computer screen.

My fingers are idle.

What was it that I wanted so desperately to write?

The hurricane has passed.