Lately my life has been a jumble. That’s not a bad thing. It’s just that I’ve not cleared the path for any insightful writing sessions or long moments of contemplation. Instead, the perennial summer hustle at work, frenzied outdoor days off, and of course chill time ’round the grill, have taken front and center on my to-do list. Like the perennial herbs of the forest floor, those priorities will fade, wilt, and whither in time, exposing something more enduring. And, like the fungus on the log above, I expect that despite my attention to other details this summer, my latent creativity is alive and well and slowly, steadily growing. There’s the occasional ray of sunshine that slices through the cover to remind me of what’s in wait; phrases, ideas, images, and places pop into my head, tickling me with inspiration. I hate to hope for the end of summer but part of me is anxious to return those solid and steady moments of clarity that are easier to come by in the winter months.