I’ve been walking around the house, looking for my muse. When I go on walks, I search for her in the clouds, in groves of trees and fields of dandelions. The state of the world and the nation are distractions, to be sure, and I’ve been doing left-brain things like editing manuscripts, working with a marketing consultant (a new experience!), paying bills, keeping appointments—all take time and interfere with my creative processes. Sometimes, my muse teases me by whipping into my consciousness with the germ of an idea for a new story, or if I’m editing, she might cause me to delete a word and add another that contributes to the lyricism of a paragraph. There’s a season to everything and this is my season to bring closure to some endeavors, so I can launch new projects and open my mind to learning. Life is good because my muse has not gone away—I see her now in the corner of my yard where I plan to plant a garden.