I drive a lot for work and my drive often takes me along a two-lane highway that meanders through the country side. As the highway leaves the city it winds through a forested area and then opens up to rolling hills. It really is a beautiful drive. Houses and farms dot the fields along the road. This time of year the fields are full of horses, cows, sheep, and bison. The fields are still mostly brown with winter and the trees are just beginning to bud.
My car has always been my major thinking spot and that coupled with my love of driving means I don’t mind that I have to be on the road a lot. In years past when I really needed to think through something I got in my car and drove. Now I get regular time in the car and my thinking time is divided between thoughts of work and thoughts of my writing. I am often inspired by things I see during my travels.
Just recently on a cold morning when patches of snow created a patchwork quilt with the brown of the fields I noticed a clump of sheep in the side yard of a small house. I imagine they were enjoying an early morning spring breakfast. I couldn’t help but wonder if the baby sheep ever say to their mommas, “We hate cold, brown grass. Why can’t we have warm, green grass for breakfast?” To which I am sure the mommas reply, “There are starving sheep in Africa; you should be thankful for what you have. Now hush your mouths and eat your breakfast.” Yep, that’s what I thought and lo and behold, here it is in my blog. That’s the way it works for me…I see, I think, I write.
Lately my life has been crazy. Work has been busy and sometimes hard. We have had several bouts of snow that complicates my work schedule. Things at home like paying the bills and doing the taxes demand my attention. And even though it is just me and my kitty cat at home and we aren’t terribly messy the house still needs to be cleaned. It just seems as if there is never enough time and while I long for a simpler life I believe this is the plan for my life right now and its okay.
Still as I drive by the farms and the little houses during my time in the country I wonder if the people who live in these houses lead simpler lives. I wonder if any of those houses are home to a semi reclusive writer. I dream about living in a small house away from the hustle of the city. I see myself in this setting as being a semi reclusive writer enjoying a cup of coffee while watching out the kitchen window and seeing the sheep having their breakfast. (Not my sheep, mind you, but the closest neighbor’s sheep! Having sheep definitely would not be simplicity for me.) As I drain the last of my coffee I will pad to my office and sit before my keyboard. Words and sentences will flow from my fingers as I write amazing stories and best-selling books. This scenario isn’t anything new. I used to imagine a similar situation when I drove through the Columbia River valley in Oregon. The difference now is that I am actually writing and moving towards my dream of being published. Maybe someday I will live a different life and when people drive through the country side and see my little house they will wonder the same things I do.