My Writing Place

I am prone to habitual behaviors. I get stuck on certain foods to eat, a specific sport or exercise, and yes even favorite writing habits.
Right now, in the early morning hours, I am sitting in the kitchen rocking chair, laptop resting on my legs. I look out the big bow window to the northeastern dawn quietly spreading its light south. My rocking chair glides to and fro keeping rhythm with my beating fingers...tap, tap, tap. This is my favorite place to write in the morning. I find inspiration in the sunrise, the movement of the river, and the gnarly wind beaten trees that loom over the water. When warm enough, I open a window to get sound inspiration. This morning a lonely goose calls out across the water in search of company. A titmouse chirps while hopping between feeder and suet. Gray squirrels leave their high nests and and scratch their way down tree trunks in search of breakfast.
 The clouds are the color of sherbert...orange, lemon, raspberry. Faint blue sky peaks through giving promise to another beautiful winter day. Yes winter is still here though signs of its presence are scarce. The snow is gone, the ice is out, spring bulbs have poked through the no longer frozen ground. Inspiration abounds from my favorite perch...