My writing muse has deserted me. It left on March 23rd, 2020 - the same day we lost our freedom for the first time. At the start of the global pandemic that has ravaged our planet and all upon it since December 2019.
It worried me for a long time that I no longer had any urge to write. However, I have kept up with my walks (my bimbles) every day and in the beauty that surrounds me I have found great solace.
I take photographs on every bimble. A focus to my walk and also a way to to heighten my senses to what I am seeing as I wander slowly through the countryside.
It took a while before I realised that my muse hadn't gone missing. It was simply inspiring a different kind of narrative - a photographic one, rather than one woven from words.
I am so grateful for this realisation, as obvious as the epiphany may seem. I have always written. I have been a photographer for a very long time, too. I had never seen my images as a narrative, though. Quite daft, really!
I feel whole again, now that I do. In this world riven asunder by the impact of the CV19 pandemic I am so very grateful for this. It gives me the much-needed focus my writing used to, and the same richness, too.
