In search for my inspiration. Photograph taken by author

I sit here staring out the window into the snow-covered trees searching for something to inspire me. Looking out over the valley below in this little cabin in the woods that I so lovingly call home.

I hear the wolves calling in the distance beckoning me to step just outside. It’s twenty below weather dare I try? I get up and follow grabbing my coat and my gloves. Not forgetting my hot mug, whoosh frosty air takes the breath from my lungs.

I sit on my ice filled porch looking out at this forest just listening and watching for the right muse to dance before my eyes. Will something in this landscape with a changing paintbrush spark my interest drawing me into its frozen tantalizing power.

Breathing in deep smelling the smells of the awesome woods around me. Not a voice can be heard except the faint whispers of the creatures living here. What an odd beast I must seem. With my mug and old Yorkie I gaze out at the horizon.

The wolves are singing choruses of a different tune bringing on night from the late afternoon. Getting up and sauntering back in to start a fire in the fireplace. I turn around grab my camera and follow the wolf’s lonesome call.

My muse has danced his dance.

Written, 19th November 2000.