Light as a feather

So I'm walking down the street today and it's very breezy and the fallen leaves are swirling all around. It's quite lovely. Suddenly a feather blows onto the sidewalk right in front of me. I pick it up and marvel that it's a brilliant shade of burgundy. Or is it purple? It depends on the light. But suffice to say, it's a beautiful feather.

I have always been drawn to feathers. It's the whole quill concept, being a writer and all. And now I'm laughing as I hold it and keep walking because I know it's a sign from the universe. Keep writing. That's what it's saying. You're in your element now. It's coming to you so naturally and fluidly. The words and ideas are everywhere. That's when you KNOW. You see almost everything as inspiration. What a rush.

This is how I know things are clicking. Last night I wrote an article for a newsletter. I had promised someone the piece and then had my aforementioned computer issues. So I went to one of those places that lets you rent the computer time for $12 an hour. I looked at the clock. Desperate Housewives was on in an hour. I wanted to get the piece done, check my email and write a blog entry in that timeframe. My old journalist attitude kicked in. I was a sports writer for 10 years, I thought, and wrote basketball game stories in 25 minutes on deadline. This was a piece of cake.

I wrote the article and liked it (an important point). I checked and responded to email. I blogged. I paid the clerk. I walked home. I put the key in the door. The church bell across the street started ringing to signal it was 9 p.m. I grabbed the remote and watched the suburban ladies manipulate their way through another episode. It was perfect.

Then there was the feather this morning.

I hear you. Loud and clear.