I’ve taken a hiatus from writing; actually, I haven’t taken the hiatus, my brain just turned off and a hiatus happened. As in the past, this break in my writing indicates stress, sickness and a not-up-to-par frame of mind. I’ve been keeping a list of topics I want to write about, but the right side of my brain has been MIA – there haven’t been any creative juices flowing.
I woke up early this morning hoping that once I’d made the coffee, planted myself in my old lady chairs (click here to see my blog about my chairs) and turned on my laptop, I’d be able to force the reticent right side of my brain into action. Then, as I was making the coffee, my daughter’s dog started barking so I went to retrieve him from her room (if we leave him in there once he is awake, he uses the bedpost as his potty spot). That meant that I also had to take him outside to do his duty, even before finishing the coffee preparations – not exactly as I had planned. I put his leash on and out the front door we went into the dark morning. We had barely stepped off the front porch when I heard the hoot of an owl from the trees to my left and then, seconds later, I heard another hoot coming from nearby on the opposite side, near the street. Unlike the area to my left, the street side does not have any large trees to welcome an owl. So, as soon as Thurman (my daughter’s dog is named after Thurman Munson, the Yankee catcher and Team Captain who died in a plane crash in 1979; he was my husband’s favorite player – that’s one way to get Daddy to accept your dog) had finished his business, we walked toward the end of driveway. I was hoping to hear the owl again so that I could figure out where he was hiding. Just as we reached the corner of our house, there came another hoot. I looked up and perched on the peak of our roof, silhouetted against the night sky, was a huge owl! He turned his head and cocked it downward to get a look at me, he hooted several more times while I stood there mesmerized. I thought about trying to hoot back at him in the hopes of a conversation (I’ve been “talking” to squirrels since I was a little girl), but I was afraid that my owl-speak was not very accomplished. So, I just stood and watched this rooftop visitor, feeling privileged to have stumbled upon this early morning moment. And then, without warning, the owl puffed up his body, spread his wings and flew off toward the trees; then, just as quickly and quietly as he had flown away, my right brain woke up.