The thing about seasons is that they change.
Finally, it is Fall. My favorite. But it is still too warm here for boots or hot cider. Still too warm for the leaves to drop with a shhhuuuussh and await my forthcoming ccrrruuunnnccchhhh. Still too warm to smell Christmas in the wind.
But then it will change again, quicker than a blink. Winter will come and nature will go into hiding.
That is how I feel right now, in my writing life. My writing is hiding within me, like a seed in Winter. Frozen a bit perhaps. Snuggled down deep, waiting to awaken.
And you know, it's not a bad feeling, really.
I rarely ever, EVER take a break because the IDEAS are always THERE and they are very persistent. I've been tinkering with some things, but not starting anything new really. I mean, I know what I want to work on next, but it feels like it's still in the seed stage, and the warming sun is a ways off.
And I hadn't intended this little mini-break. But it feels quite good to merely drag my toes across the surface of writing and not cannonball in just yet.
But soon. Soon.
Because the thing about seasons is that they change.