At dusk. This time of day has always been a peaceful one for me. There is rest. Completion. Release. The colors in the sky are beautiful. The air, even when it’s cold, has a warmth to it. It is my favorite time of day.
Maybe it’s the nostalgia that lies there within the darkening hours. Memories of fireflies and late kick ball games linger in the dusk for me. Old barns and first kisses dance around in those hours. I think that I must equate dusk with youth. And I am fond of youth, in the same way that I am fond of wisdom and experience and years.
When I was a teenager I wrote the kinds of stories that I would want to pick up off the shelves and read. Love stories. With the kinds of details that I longed to experience myself. I gave them names that meant something to me, that evoked feelings of love, passion, and desire…in me. It must come as no surprise then that a favorite of mine carries the name, Just Before Dusk. Perhaps one day I will bring that story around into its novel form. Because the hearts of young girls are mostly steady…and they still enjoy reading about love.
It’s been so long since I’ve tapped the keys here at Covered in Grace. I wonder if you’ve forgotten me, dear reader.
I wonder how you keep your flame burning, how you continue to fill the pages of your space with articles that people come back for again and again. I wonder if you’re just going through the motions…like I was, or felt like I was. I wonder if you still write because it’s your passion or if you create content to facilitate a blogging agenda that you didn’t really intend.
Now, I’m coming back to the heart of my passion. I am taking steps to create something for myself, and in turn for my family, that will carry me down a path of growth. I’ve been working on some things…
Re-gaining a daily writing habit is going to be one of them. And this is the place where that will happen. Because writers write.
My most creative and fruitful phases as a writer took place when I was ACTIVE in the writing community, whether that meant it was a blogging network, a writing workshop, or my own lonely community of one. And more times than not, those glorious days were often run by prompts. Which brings me here.