Yes, we can almost hear the ground slurping the moisture, and even though well on their way to winter dormancy, the chlorophyll taps having been turned off across the garden, the trees and shrubs and perennials seem to be standing taller this morning, looking much more alert.
Or perhaps they're just remembering this light . . .
I sit down to read for a few minutes, then remember an assignment I need to write up for one of my classes, so I jump up to grab my yellow-lined foolscap pad. Back in my armchair, I jot down the beginning of the assignment, then turn the page to begin another list. Too restless to read now, instead I pick up the cobweb-lace scarf I'm knitting -- the intricacies of the pattern are demanding enough to hold me in the moment, at least on the Knit side with its yarnovers and slip-two-together-knit-one-cross-slipped-stitches-overs and make-one-Lefts and make-one-Rights. On the Purl side, though, nothing stops me from drifting back to worry about the Big Literary Event I'm convening next week. More list-jotting.
A few rows finished, I get up to put another log in the woodstove. While I'm up, the dryer pings, so I unload the scrumptiously warm clean sheets and take them up to make our bed, anticipating the comfort I'll feel tonight sliding into their freshness. I straighten the room a bit, gather up some laundry and start another load. Then, inevitably, I'm back at the keyboard, wending my way through various blogs, checking the news, writing a few e-mails. I even check my work e-mail, answer a few messages and begin typing up the assignment I'd started planning earlier. Despite having promised myself I could have the day completely free of work, being led here, in such a roundabout manner by my Puttering, I choose to work IF the spirit so strikes me.
And to stop again to take the compost out to the bin in the back garden.
So it goes. So it will go, all day long, I hope. Tomorrow's schedule is set slightly more firmly (a long run, a trip to town, reading/writing that Must be done), but today is Puttering at my pace all day long. Puttering and Napping. I'm a big believer in their therapeutic properties. Indeed, I would argue that they are both surprisingly productive and foundational to creativity, at least for me. What about you? Do/Can you Putter, if not Nap? When was the last time you interrupted your work to schedule a very productive Puttering/Napping Session? Are you running to write one into your Calendar right now?