Driving By the Lake on a Sunny Morning

Summer mornings feel soft with promise. I love driving by the lake. My best writing ideas come from that short stretch of road. A rock shaped like a shark fin sticks out of the water. Two cormorants lounge companionably on a flat rock. This morning a man fished from an inflatable boat. I haven't figured it out yet, but people must have specific rights to tiny sections of the shore. some have tents or gazebos. One has a red flower garden: roses and geraniums with a tiny pergola. There are houses on one street that obviously began life as cottages. I read that big hotels once lined the shore. In winter the sun rises over the water and in fall the light on the leaves is breaktaking. Why does the beauty of this lake inspire me? Not to poetry or anything literary, but plot ideas, thoughts about my characters, things germane to the story. It's a mystery.

I like the funky cottages and further along there are two large spreads, one almost (but not quite) derelict, the other in the best of shape. The farm has cows again. Three of them grazing. I like that, too.

It's a calming drive before the workday begins with its insanity and its stupidity. I've been in IT too long now, jaded and cynical. Seen it all and liked not much. The technology, yes, liked that, always, and the co-workers, mostly, and even some of the management, but the rest, the mis-management, the idiotic decisions, the stupidity, the cupidity, and the hubris are hard to take after a while. Suck it up at work as well as marketing one's book(s). Life is a series of "suck it ups."

Onward,

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