My little spot

 

 
This morning I celebrated my last time to write in my little writing nook tucked away in a corner of the loft at the old log cabin. I loved that little spot. It was good to me. During the two partial years we lived there, I sat there most mornings to write - whether to crank out words in my NaNo project, to work on a blog post, or just to capture my thoughts and feelings.

This nook did not boast a huge study area nor was there space for a library - like my previous writing spot in the big house. It was just a little spot - triangular in shape, tucked under the eaves between the built-in wardrobe and the loft railing.


I loved the view from that railing overlooking the cozy room below or out the second-story windows with the red-bud tree on the left and the stately spruce at the right.

In the spring, that red-bud tree exploded into bright pink froth and in the fall its leaves cavorted through a wild range of vivid colors. Meanwhile the tall dark evergreen solemnly stood guard through the seasons.

In the winter, like this morning, I couldn't see any of that because it was just dark out there, but I could remember and imagine the colors as I waited for the daylight to show up. And I kept writing.

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This afternoon we hauled that little desk down the stairs and loaded it into the truck to move away from this lovely spot.

There will be other writing nooks in other lovely places. Places that I haven't yet imagined. After all I never would have imagined this little corner of the loft until I got there and found it.