In the past few days, while I’ve been hiding out here at Shangri-lar, I’ve seen eagles (juveniles and mature), flickers, a belted kingfisher, dozens of herons, American Goldfinches, White Crowned Sparrows, Robins, house finches and hummers galore. Plus some birds I can’t identify (I’m sure one is a Swainson’s Thrush, Maria).
I’ve been giddy with the winged wonders I’ve seen the past few days. . .and, of course, that got me to thinking about my writing/revision and how easy it is to be tempted by a flash of gold, leading me this way or a flash of crimson pulling me down another path.
In my work, I’ve come to understand that I have to make choices. Hard ones. I’d love to chase every hummingbird but sometimes I have to follow the robins. So some story lines have to be set aside for another book.
How about you? What kind of bird walking do you do in your writing?
The Swainson’s ethereal call herald’s the final thread in evening’s curtain.
Kirby, I sense our summer’s quest on the horizon.