I’m house sitting in the middle of nowhere this week. Cell phone reception is spotty, my laptop is without Wi-Fi, and while there is a television, I’m not a big fan of most of what’s currently showing. This has made for some very quiet evenings.
As I write this by hand (on Monday night), a fire is burning, both golden retrievers have finally settled down for the night, and the cat, who is the spitting image of Puss from the last Shrek movie, has finally come out of hiding to investigate the exciting smells found on my computer bag. It’s evenings like this that bring to my attention just how much of my free time is spent connected to technology. Five minutes here. Five minutes there. And next thing I know it’s midnight and I’ve gotten nothing accomplished.
Tonight instead of listening to Pandora, I’m being serenaded by a chorus of frogs. Instead of scrolling through wall posts and Twitter feeds, I’ve watched a pair of pink and green hummingbirds flit between feeders. I’ve stared in amazement as they flick their tiny tongues through needle-like beaks and have wondered at how small and delicate they look all while imagining what it would be like to catch and hold one.
In these few quiet hours I’ve forgotten about deadlines. My calendars have lost their importance. My mind has relaxed and my shoulders have lost their keyboard hunch. For the first time in weeks I feel like writing because I want to write, not because I have to.
And I still have five more nights to go.