I sit pen in hand; blank pad before me.
All around is breathtaking scenery that astounds me as my field of
vision sweeps the vast horizon. Everywhere, Nature bathing my body in
beauty and refreshing forever with copious exuberant energy.
Yet, not a word for the empty sheet.
Gentle wind plays with my hair like some soothing spirit assuring me
with cooling caress. Birds chirp; frolicking in the meadow; hopping
hither and yon; a peck here, a peck there.
Still, the page that is wordless.
Now sounds of springtime gently blend with suspiring wind through the willows; point gun, squeeze — Flash!!!
Final flicker of consciousness as a fine mist of poet blood drizzles
upon the foolscap
— A Study In Burnt Umber!
