I’m a bad blogger, guys. The world is full of people shooting words at each other. Sharpening them as weapons to hurl through the online nonexistent air of the Internet. Bending them to fit their needs. Shaping them into typeset gravitas delivered in newspapers and magazines to doors shut tight against other ideas.

 Writers like to think we’re part of the solution, but when we can’t find words that soothe, heal, or maybe just provide a good escape for a bit of time, perhaps we dry up.

Out here in the woods of The Blue House, the place friends loan me to get away from the Net and all the rest, the woods are vibrant with color. Oranges melting to browns, greens growing into reds so vivid you think there might be apples on a tree.

Old roads, made from older wagon tracks, lead to abandoned homesteads and barns that look as though they would fall over with one push of a wolf’s paw. Never mind all the huffing and puffing; just breathe, and walk. Look around and soak in some peace and quiet.

Soak it in so maybe it can translate into friendly, quiet, thoughtful words to send out. I hope I can share the savoring with you, because in the end isn’t that what such things are for? When we fill up we can pour out.

Either way, living in the moment, enjoying the leaves and the silence, is a thing to be savored. So that’s why the blog post is small this week, and I hope you are savoring things of your own. Perhaps you’re at a beach where earth, air, and water share conjoined contentment. Family time with changing leaves and thresholds, the first powdery snows of Northern climes, covering tracks and crevices.

Wherever you are, soak it in and have a great weekend.