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…
…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.