Nature Writing
I’m sitting at my old white desk in front of the window. It’s the kind of view I always wanted for my writing spot: navy curtains pulled back at the sides to reveal a panorama of green, all the grass of the backyard sweeping away to meet the woods. I can see a corner of the little white shed perched at the edge of the woods, and half of the giant, ancient tree that rules the yard and is one of the main things that sold me on this house years ago. Its shadow dots across the brightness the sunlight pours over the yard, and when I look up, I see little patches of pale blue among the leaves. The weather is mild for June, and absolutely perfect.
But I see everything through the grid of the window screen and the straight lines of the blinds, keeping me separate from it. Behind me, bath water runs, and the washer and dryer hum. Beyond those, Scooby Dooby Doo is howling on the TV, and farther back in the house, I know the random clicks and whirs of MInecraft are probably filling a bedroom. I thought this was the ideal place to write, but it’s a little jarring, thinking about what I want to say about my favorite time of my favorite season, staring at all this beauty and not being out in it. I like to think that my life is lived out there in all that beauty, but as I peer through the white lines blocking my backyard view, I am reminded of how much is really lived in tasks–doing laundry, or elbow deep in pizza dough, or fighting the ever-present war for clean carpet. And when I’m honest, I can admit that as an indoor girl, the main way I have viewed nature over the last few years has been through a window, only heading outside for an evening walk where I try to get my heart pumping and avoid being attacked by a neighbor’s dog. It’s not exactly prime nature enjoyment time.
It’s probably why I like to write in front of the window, to soak in how much loveliness there is right outside my own house, and inspire me to get back out. After I stare at the sky while trying to work out a difficult sentence or figure out the exact word I want, I’m more ready to follow my son outside with his football and throw for a while, or try (and fail) to block his soccer kicks. Sometimes life inspires writing, letting me live it twice. But also writing inspires living, making me want to see more, feel more, do more. I am ready to snap the screen closed and go back out into the world, to try it all again.